In the dark a figure stands. Their silhouette is framed by the glowing flames of the house. A child whimpers in their arms. Her parents had betrayed the guild. The figure slowly turns carrying the infant away from the ruins. In the dim light many scars and a few new deep wounds can be seen. They begin to move away, running at an inhuman speed. With a few large jumps a pair of ebony wings sprout from their back and they soar into the sky. The infant has been left a safe way away from the flames, fast asleep, a new scar forming on her chest.