"The form I chose this time was no falcon, no frail, flitting thing. In a twisting flash of mist and wrath, I stretched my anima to its breaking point, flaring it, stoking it with my strength of will. I became a Fatalis, the queen of eagles, with a wingspan double the height of a man and talons like curved daggers.
These birds were bred in the ancient wars to hunt armored men and horses. Born of blood magic and lightning, a cousin of dragons, I soared above the rooftops of Port Luce, sparks dancing across my feathered scales. An igneous flash streaked across the sky as I passed, spreading silently through the clouds."
-Excerpt from Drifter, by Brian Toups
