The dark walls of the stone temple suddenly illuminated with red light. A dust was blown from the ancient stones as a wave of power and energy blasted from the center of the temple room. In the center of the cavern-like dungeon, there was a large circle of red wax bled into the floor, along with many demonic runes and scriptures. Five unholy sorcerer stood around this circle of blood-wax, chanting the dark words of summoning into the cool underground air. The runes in the circle began to flash and glow a bloody red, just as the dark runes upon the walls had. The mages chanted louder, their hands working to invoke the final steps of the process. They slit their hands and flung their tainted blood upon the dark portal that was now opening before all of them, in the center of the circle of wax. From this portal, as the blood splashed upon it, rose a dark statue of pure adamantine, a shining black stone that could be mistaken for unholy diamond. So pristine was the carving that every single feature of the woman wrapped in a shroud of scaled wings was told in the carvings of the stone.
The sorcerer's bloods mixed and laced themselves into the special runes that had been hidden among the expert artistry. As the blood settled and their words began to form physical shadows and swirl around the statue, the statue itself began to glow just as the rest of the room had. Sickeningly, the adamantine figure opened it's hardened jaw, and what words that had been materialized into shadow were sucked in. The blood, flung upon the statue, soaked into the stone, and began to turn it the pale color of Caucasian skin. The dark wings stayed the dark diamond until the very last moments of the transformation, when all the red lights in the room seemed to be sucked to the woman's bosom and eyes. At that point, the red lights were absorbed, and seemed to suddenly burst out through every vein in the draconic, or demonic, wings.
The veins were arranged so that even they, and the lights that now burst forth, shown the dark and evil symbols that had been placed around the temple. The woman suddenly then gasped, and opened her new eyes. They glowed fiercely with the light of the red room, but slowly, as the woman collapsed to her knees in the center of the circle, they faded to a deep, royal purple. Her hair flew over her skin like an ocean of black silk. Her hair too had retained the black-diamond like coloring, and the threads of her hair seemed to shimmer in the now faint light of the room. Her long, black, and straight hair draped over her pale skin like the dark clouds of a storm lacing over a full moon.
For a moment more, the red runes burned brightly in her wings, back, and shoulders. Then, as all the tension in the room seemed to fade, so did they. She was left to lay upon the center of the wax circle without anything but her wings to clothe her. Quickly, she cast her keen eyes around the room. She had been dead for so long, she could barely remember who she was, or what she was. Power coursed through her revived veins, and she scanned the summoners with unsteady, yet confident eyes.
"Who dares disturb me?" She asked, her voice like a dagger of ice in the warm room.
The summoners stood in awe of her collapsed beauty for another moment, before answering her question. "Goddess of Darkness, and Queen of the damned, save us from your wrath and aid us in enacting it upon our foes! Heroine of War and Saint of Sorrows, bring us from this madness and drown us in your power." The leader of the mages called, stepping forward and revealing himself. He was tall, and had short, brown hair with green eyes.
The girl breathed, her body shuddering under the new conditions. Physically, she looked barely twenty years old. Was this all true? She asked herself, Was she some sort of deity? A goddess? No. She didn't feel like a goddess.
The girl looked to her hands, and then to the summoners. "Kind awakeners..." She said, sitting up and draping herself with her dark wings. "I am that of modesty. Bring me clothes?" She asked, her voice gentle compared to how she had first spoken.
Like bees, the magi around her seemed to swarm to get her things. For the next hour or so, the five men did everything that the summoned being would ask of them: Clothes, food, weapons, and even armor. By the end of the hour, she had all the things she wanted.
At this, she turned to the men. "Kind summoners." She said, having not bothered to learn their names. "My power is of my own..." She began, walking up to the leader and embracing his palms with her pale fingers. "I would not share it on my life." She whispered to him, leaning in and kissing his lips. With this kiss of death, she stole the man's soul, his power, and his life-force. This was how she would gain her power, her livelihood, back. The four men around her seemed shocked, but before they could run very far, the Damsel dressed in black had cut them down with the blades they had given her, and the dark rays of magic she so possessed. In their dying moments, the temptress went to each and kissed their lips, stealing their forces like before.
It didn't take long, but the woman made her way out of the temple in the mountains, and to a ridge that overlooked a small Draconian town. Rolling plains in every direction but behind her, she smiled and stopped to rest. She was dressed in a tight black corset and black silken blouse, along with black studded leather armour pants and some lovely stiletto boots that went up to her knees. She also wore a long, flowing red cape that covered her adamantine wings. She sat in the sun of the rising morning with her dark hood up to hide her face from whatever may have flown by.
