"We are dying. Each and every one of you are on the edge of the abyss whether vampire, werewolf, siren, Witch. They wait for us beyond the boundaries of this town, and though we have strength, they have numbers. So here we lay, waiting for our moment to take back what has been ours since the beginning of time. Until then, I implore you to remember where your loyalties lie, and who has brought you here and saved your lies. For if you turn against me, blood will be spilled, because I for one refuse to lie down. If you stick with me, I will raise you all to become the powers of the world. For were we not made for power?" She was not particularly loud but her voice rang out through the entire town square, every pair of eyes trained on her as her cool voice left in whisps from her mouth. Slowly, she turned and left the stage, her flock of guards following her as she moved through the crowds. And with that Mica was born, anointed with the spilling of fresh blood. Brought forth from the idea of protection, brought into reality by those we watched fall, twisted grins on our faces as we began to clap.

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