Moona was created into reality as a twin. Her twin was named Starx, and they were inseparable from creation, they didn't know how they got here or how they came to be, but they knew they had a role to partake in.
They worked separately but kept eachother in their minds. Starx role was to light the stars every night, and Moona's role was to maintain the cycle of the moon, along with it phases. In their free time the made each other gifts to hold onto. Starx made Moona a golden hairtie from extra stardust he had collected, while Moona made Starx a necklace from moon stone/dust.
Moona and Starx had now been fulfilling their roles for a century, every morning when the stars would disappear Starx would return to Moona. But one morning he didn't, and Moona waited for him. She had stopped moving the moon, only focused on his return. And then one morning turned to another, and another, and before long a decade passed. The stars hadn't shined in a long time.
She had finally allowed her self to weep with sorrow and loneliness for her missing twin, her other half. He was gone, whenever by choice or by force. And he didn't come back. That sorrow had wept her for a long time, but soon that sorrow became a rage, a rage that iced her heart. The first blood moon occured that night, her rage announced to the world. Moona had decided that she wanted others to feel her rage, sorrow and loneliness. She looked down at the Earth from her empty cold moon, light shone from the villages that dotted the planet, and she chose her first victims. Humanity.
Moona decended to Earth that night. She had massacred her first village, hearing the cries and screams of the innocent and not so innocent. Their fear, pain and anguish brought her amusement. They all tried to escape their fate to no avail, all except for one. A single woman, dressed in black. Moona was peaked by this person, and she approached, her eyes locked with theirs. This person had hate and rage in their eyes, but yet a steady, calm and calculated heart beat. Truely a unique specimen. Moona had paused her attack on the village, the total of the 6 survivors escaping into the surrounding woods. "Oh my, it seems my prey has ran." Moona smirked. "Yet I find you a quite interesting enough to pause my hunt. Tell me, what caused you to have such hate in your eyes?" She remarked. The stanger was silent for moments longer before replying, "I have people who diserve death for actions they have commited and scars theyve left. I cannot allow myself to die and them to go unpunished." The stanger returned. A just cause. Moona felt disappointed with her reasoning, but atleast it wasn't boring. She considered whenever to spare her or kill her. And then she had a better idea.
"I will allow you my aid and your life if you serve as my champion. You will be gifted my god item, which will allow you immortality, insight, foresight and strength upon wearing it. The only cons being that you will enforce my will and wish, and obey of every word.Of course you will still be able to complete your goal. Sound like a deal?" Moon proposed, offering her hand. The stanger took it without a hesitation. "What might I call you, champion?" Moon had laughed in a sinister way. "You may call me Starry."
As of today, Moona still rages upon Earth. Starry beside her, enforcing Moona's will and wish onto humanity. Word has spread of their massacres, often depecting folktales about Moona and her champion Starry. The most common one told is that the Reaper and the Devil on their shoulder whispering its will. Usually these stories are warnings to adventures and even bedtime stories to make children behave.
- Moona was created a twin, and the twins were together daily.
- One morning her twin Starx didn't return, and Moona waited a decade for them.
- Moona's loss for her brother turned to rage, and she directed that rage onto human kind.
- Upon her first massacre of a village she met Starry, who became her champion and wearer of her god item, a ram skull.
- Moona and Starry now massacre random villagers while working towards Starrys goal.
