It was at once both a memory and a fragment of what had once been her home. Prospero had been a dangerous place outside of the City of Light, and yet she had always found herself captivated by it. The Picts she had seen of the flora and fauna had been lush, vibrant with color, and yet always held the allure of the deadly. But the outside world was never her concern. Her peace had always been found in the northern sections of Tizca. From her bedroom window she could still clearly recall were the White Mountains, the subterranean defense lasers always looming, like an ominous blanket that did little to frighten her. Rather, it was the opposite, she felt comfort in how well-defended her home had been.
To the west, in her memory, lay the Vulperine Sea; its turquoise waters still lapping softly against their shores even now in her mind's eye. And yet there was no greater piece of Tizca than that of the Great Library. A hand rested on her shoulder, swallowing it whole, and she broke out of her reverie to stare at the face of the Crimson King. He stared out, one eyed, at the mockery of Tizca and ground his teeth. "The Wolves...have taken much from us, Little One. We have broken Fenris in return, and cast the dogs out to bay on iron cages in the void of space. There are no more wolves on Fenris, not any longer."
She found her throat dry, and an urge to kneel found her yet Magnus would not let her move an inch. "My Lord, I remember-" The woman stopped herself, her words dying in her throat. If she said the wrong thing, he could end her. "Speak, Little one. Knowledge is most potent when it is shared." The Crimson King frowned down at her, his imposing height making her seem so small in comparison. His red hair fell down his back in a tight scalp-lock, and his red skin still burned as if severely sunburnt.
"I remember another Legion, another of your brothers who were wolves as well. Kinder Wolves to Prospero if nothing else." It took a moment, but as silence fell, Magnus looked back to the Daemonic reflection of Tizca, and a whisper fell past his lips before he turned his Cyclopean gaze back to her. "My men tell me you served in the Prosperine Guard so long ago. I sense great potential in you, little one, but I am surprised no one else has in so long."
"What do you mean my lord?" Her tone grew bolder, her back straighter beneath the Crimson King's vice-like grip. "I mean to tell you, little one, that you are to be the first of a new project of mine, a new force to do my will alongside my Sons. Whatever name you had before carries no meaning any longer. I can see, little one, that you practically burn with the power of the Empyrean. Yes, you will do nicely."
She could say little to that, but for agreement. To serve The Crimson King was an honor, a chance to change her fate, and perhaps...perhaps a chance to leave this mockery of her home. "Yes." She said.
"Choose a name, little one. A new name, for the enemies of Prospero to fear."
"Evelyn." She said. There was no hesitation, no remorse. Magnus chuckled, and grinned in response. "An old Terran Name. Good. Irony is strong with it, and your foes shall learn to fear it."
"Henceforth are you no longer a woman merely to stay upon Sortiarius, but-to borrow the parlance of my brother-you shall be its first Valkyrie, its first avenging angel. Henceforth are you now and forever a Daughter Of Prospero."
