We fade in. An ancient castle shrouded in darkness
and obscured by pouring rain sits recessed into
the cliffside of a mountain. The sky above it
is a menagerie of momentarily illuminated thunderclouds,
thick, billowing masses that roll across the
black night sky. The castle's towers reach like
stone gray fingers from its massive bedpans,
rising skyward against the shadowed, shattered
peaks. of the mountains in the near distance.
Thunder cracks as white phosphorescent streaks
of lightning draw blinding tears in the dark.
We cut to the castle's interior. A young woman
moves with determined purpose across the stone
floor of the keep. Despite her calm expression
and even demeanor, her footfalls echo with the
cadence of someone in a hurry. All around her,
masterwork paintings of far -flung providence
and rich tapestries some hundreds of years old
adorn the walls, spaced with precision between
blue -white orbs that hum with a gentle, magical
light. Wesley Nixon is a tall, pale, slender,
elvish creature. She has longish white hair with
sideswept bangs that she normally keeps hidden
under her hood. Her eyes go from being a pale
blue to fully black, like sclera and all, when
she's either provoked or when she just wants
to intimidate someone. She also has fangs that
are always making their appearance. Where she's
from, she's very appealing. People love the way
she looks and the energy she gives off, but when
she leaves her area, most people do find her
kind of terrifying. She is very elegant and graceful.
Most can't help but to stare. She dresses in
all black all of the time with the occasional
gray blouse. Her style leans young, hip, regal,
but she is experimenting with her style as of
now. She has new lace gloves that she likes to
show off all the time. The young woman moves
upstairs and along another hallway, more stairs,
more hallways. As she travels, her gait never
strains, nor does it slow. As she passes the
occasional servant, even their well -trained
gazes turn with curiosity toward her. It is dangerous
to appear too interested in the young daughter
of Lilith Nixon. Each of them knows this. But
the determined pace and sense of purpose with
which she walks gives rise to questions even
here. As she turns another corner, we leave the
young woman behind, dissolving, and when our
view reappears, there is a new woman. seated
casually on a chase before a grand fireplace.
Similar in appearance to that of the young woman
we saw before, but where her face still held
the last few shadows of childhood, this woman
is in the full blossom of her beauty. She possesses
a refined, graceful elegance. Even lounging as
she is upon the chase, it is apparent she possesses
the sort of confidence that comes with a lifetime
of the world. bending to her whim. Her eyes reflect
the flame light of the fireplace before her,
tracking the flickering fire as if watching a
dance to which only she is privy to the movements
of. A soft curving of the lips, the echo of a
smile that exists only on the edges of her mouth
provide the only indication of her mood. There
is a knock at the door. Come in, the woman calls,
her voice a languid velvet. The door opens and
in walks the younger woman from before, who we
now recognize as Wesley Nixon. Hello, Mother.
I'm going to go make myself a drink, if you don't
mind. Of course not, darling. Please, by all
means, help yourself. Lilith Nixon waves her
hand lazily towards the bar against the western
side of the room. What's going on, Mother? Why
do you seem so worried? Well, the day has finally
come. Loath as I am for it. Lola says, inviting
her daughter to take a seat next to her. Word
has come down from the itinerary court. You're
getting a diplomatic assignment. You'll be our
diplomatic liaison in Hope's Embrace. A city
that's been flourishing some short while in the
wastelands of... Where was it again? Yes. The
Almiran Desert, just to the north. A colony of
nearby Amaran, I'm led to believe. Well, it's
important to the court that things go well. Though
the reason isn't entirely clear, even to me.
Diplomatic liaison? That feels pretty vague,
right? Why? Yes, it is. And very much by design.
You will have... few official functions, though
we have arranged for you to meet with the governor
there. Can't think of the woman's name now, but
yes, tis a woman, so at least there's some signs
that this may not be the barren wasteland of
a frontier town I fear it to be. Still. You do
understand, of course, that diplomatic liaison
is just the longest way we know how to spell
spy, don't you, darling? Apparently interesting
things are afoot there. Rumors and suggestions
filtered through our broad network of agents.
Nothing the court has determined to be actionable,
but the information is reliable. Well, reliable
enough that more information must be gathered.
Reliably, of course. Wesley, I need you to answer
a question for me, and it's important that you
answer honestly. I simply must know. Do you believe
you're ready for this? Do you believe that you
can handle it? Yeah, I mean, I think I'm ready.
It's what I've been training for. Yeah, I think
I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Lilith smiles then,
a shy smile. Perhaps the first true emotion that
has crossed her face during this conversation,
and in it you can see the love she has for her
daughter. She relaxes. Pulls herself upright.
Of course, darling. Of course. You spent your
life preparing for this. Despite my better judgment
and good wishes, you've persisted. And I'm glad
you have. Can I tell you a story, Wesley, before
you go pack your things and prepare for your
journey? Could you indulge me that? At least,
please. Yeah, of course, let me make myself another
drink, but start whenever I'm listening. Did
you know, when I was a young girl, that I was
a princess? My father, the Lord of Summerland,
king of all the Summer Isles. Well, I was his
fourth daughter, eighth of his thirteen children.
Though I always believed I came first in his
eyes. I was a precocious child, beautiful from
a young age. Sharp -witted, though kind enough
to pull my punches when the situation called
for it. I could hunt as well as any of my brothers.
And when attending court, I drove my sisters
mad with jealousy. And do you know what that
meant? It meant nothing. I was no one. Powerless.
Chattel. Beloved as I thought I was. It only
made me beloved, chattel. Well, when it was announced
I was being sold off to some far -off place in
service to the kingdom, my father said, I fled
home without direction or purpose, only knowing
that I couldn't live that life. Couldn't be some
thing to be used as a tool or instrument of another.
I needed my own purpose. My own. Power. I searched
with desperation for that. The jewels and coins
I managed to take with me, they didn't last long.
As bright and capable as I was, I was not ready
for the world. But I learned. I adapted. And
in my hunt, my purpose found me. The dark blessing.
Immortality and power. Beyond imagination. For
years, I had dreamed of my revenge. Of proving
to my father and my siblings that they had misjudged
me. Underappreciated me. Finally, with the means
to get just that revenge, do you know what I
did? I did nothing. Because they were nothing.
I saw their power for the thin, frail, mortal
thing that it was. A sword made of gossamer.
Armor of down. I... I hope you don't have to
learn the same lessons in the same painful manner
that I did, Wesley. This is your home. And I
know what you are worth. The greatness that waits
within you. Remember, always, who you are, where
you belong. This dark blessing is waiting for
you, Doctor. Prove you deserve it, as I know
you do. And come back to me.