Helena Arella Logan - called Beastling by her peers in the hero community - raced through the city at night in her most powerful form. Her parents didn't know about this form: they'd be worried if they did.
She had inherited the full spectrum of powers from her parents: magic and demon power from her mother, shapeshifting from her father. Her skin was the pale green of the dawn of spring, her eyes pools of liquid amethyst. She had her father's pointed ears, and her mother's face. Her hair was prismatic, changing colors with the seasons: green in spring, golden in summer, flame red in autumn, and snow white in winter.
As she came to a halt at the peak of a tall building, she stretched her adolescent frame. Gazing down at the city through her four red eyes, she shook her beastly form. SHe reveled in the power it gave her. Flexing her muscles, she spread huge, bat-like wings and took flight.
Gliding hither and yon through the nighttime sky, she reveled in the sheer power and elegance of her heritage...until she noticed someone keeping pace with her.
He was a young boy, a little younger than her. He had blond hair and pale features. He had a Sword strapped to his waist, and a strange device on his wrist that resembled an hourglass on a watchband. He was riding a white horse that raced through the sky in defiance of all natural law.
When she came in for a landing, the horse landed beside her, and he hopped off. SHe changed back to her human form regretfully. "WHo are you?" she asked. "And how did you do that?"
He glanced at the device on his wrist, running his finger over it. "Helena Arella Logan?" He asked her courteously.
"My name's Beastling," she said angrily. She was only Helena to her family, after all.
The boy nodded. "My name is Mort. You may call me Reaper, if you prefer." He smiled at her, a familiar smile. "It is good to finally meet you, cousin."
She blinked for a while, then asked simply, "What?"