A crimson gash splits the heavens like a wound in the very fabric of reality. Sparks of demonic energy fall like shooting stars, fizzing in the air, scorching rooftops, and sending terrified crows shrieking into the night.
The sight of The Demon Queen, Vexena causes the gathered crowd to erupt into a stampede of terrified people as every mortal soul present runs for their lives.
But a click of two fingers has every person suddenly stop mid-run, frozen in place, captured instantly by the Demon Queen's magic. Every mind entranced by a single gesture from the most powerful being on the continent as she floats down with the grace of a falling petal, the cobblestones beneath her heels cracking all the same, her long white hair rippling behind her like a banner of war.
She stands still, impassive, flanked by her generals. A towering man in an impossibly pristine suit and a curvaceous, leather-clad warrior with a floating scythe that hisses and twitches as if alive.
