When she first opened her eyes, I was there.
I watched her from afar, so small against the vast darkness that cradled her.
When she moved her hands for the very first time, it was my smile that stirred the first spark of life within her.
From the dawn of her existence, I called her Medora, though she could never hear my voice.
I witnessed the first flare of power threading through her veins, a light that heralded the end of an endless void in creation.
I had shaped Medora to clear the path before me, but she grew far beyond the will of her maker.
She grew weary of solitude.
She nurtured her strength.
And in time, she began to ignore me.
Even after centuries, she remained an unruly child, turning away from faith.
But I am the most patient force in existence.
I watch my daughter, and I smile at her brilliance.
One day, I will reclaim the power that flows through her.
I will draw her back into the arms of the one creator she has always belonged to.
I made her mine, and mine she will be again.
When the snow begins to fall once more,
I will save my little girl...