She was the unholy spawn of a high priest of an ancient race of exiles and the head priestess of a once proud warrior peninsula. Born of strength and raised in adversity, she became something more powerful than either of her ancestral lines could have predicted. Pale skinned and garbed in black from head to painted toe, she stood like an ivory monument that had been vandalized by heathen worshipers of darkness.

Gale winds blew across the roof of the tower as the storm summoned by her dark magic swelled above the distant river. The lights of the city mixed with the rushing clouds to form a ghostly collection of flashing luminaries inside damp fog. Beyond the buildings, within the building storm, lightning flickered and cracked. Thunder rolled across the capital, bouncing off the stones and streets to terrify the superstitious.

Then, the lightning began to strike. All around her, at first, and then upon her. Each jolt of dark power transforming her into the Demon Princess she had been born to become.