In the mountains of the Greenfields, inside a small cabin in the woods, a lady stood before the mirror, her fingers tracing the edge of the stars and bones that decorated the mirror.
She brought her index finger to her lips before biting into it, drawing blood.
"Show yourself," she whispered before placing her blood-dripping finger in the center of the mirror.
She closed her eyes, feeling the wind around her change, burning with an electrostatic force that made her hair rise as the windows opened with brutal force, slamming against the walls, their glass scattering around, an indication of the arrival of power beyond measure.
The mirror that showed the reflection of the lady suddenly glowed black before some smoke appeared on the other side of it.
