Of course, not everyone carried divine and unique power like the Scarlet King or the Crimson Exarch. Some had to face the challenges of the world with wits alone.
"What should we do, big sister?"
The voice came from a being who looked as though she had stepped from the pages of a myth. Her fur was thick and white as mountain snow, cascading over her shoulders like a regal mantle. Dark markings of black and crimson traced her body, pulsing faintly with inner light.
From her forehead curved a long obsidian horn, smooth and deadly, giving her the air of both nobility and danger. Her eyes glowed a deep, shimmering red, intelligent and sharp, framed by faint crimson streaks that shimmered when she moved.
"I don't know, little sister," came the answer, quiet yet edged with the weight of command.
