A woman rose from the black carven throne. Her hair was as dark as night, eyes bound shut by strips of shadow. She walked slowly across the floor, the hem of her gown barely brushing against the black marble, almost as if she was floating. When she had reached the far end of the chamber, she stopped. With a smooth wave of her hand, the ground at her feet began to churn and boil. From the bubbling marble arose an obsidian cradle, etched with glowing crimson runes on the bars. As the cradle finished its ascent and the ground ceased to boil, the woman reached into the cradle and withdrew a tightly wrapped bundle. It was a child.

She pulled the child close to her breast, a soft smile lighting her face. But soon the smile became a devilish smirk as she smoothed out the light tufts of blood-red hair on the child's head.

"Soon, my child, soon" she whispered before lightly kissing the child's brow and singing softly, like a mother crooning to her child.

When she was assured that the child yet slumbered, she lowered him back into the cradle and dismissed it. She turned and strode back to the throne. "When you awaken, my son" she said, lowering herself onto the cool obsidian, "the world will see who you truly are, and nothing can ever stand against us. Never…"