She was floating in a sea of darkness, yet she was not afraid. She had lived before this, bits and pieces of another life flicker before her eyes like an old movie. She recalls memories, faces and names. Still in this fathomless darkness, she feels the urge to be reborn… *no not reborn, born into who she should have been. Still something was missing, so she would drift and she would wait…
Within the sea of darkness there’s an explosion of fire and light. The small unborn child is pulled into the vortex that is created by this explosion. A swirling mass of fire and holy light appears before Lord Salkeen and Jericha. Within this fiery light is their daughter, curled up in a ball, tiny enough to cup in the palms of your hands. The She erupts in flames, the entirety of her body is now engulfed in the holy flames. Yet it doesn’t seem to burn her, still within this cocoon of light and flames she begins to grow. At first she remains curled up in a ball, as her entire body glows and grows. Soon she her small legs and arms begin to straighten out, as the child of light stretches. Her features become more defined as she continues to grow, soon she is no longer an infant. She is now a child of around two or three years old. She reaches out and places her burning hand against Salkeen’s face, before growing once again. This time she is around eight and her once elven legs are beginning to bend back as she starts to take on the Demonic attributes of her Father. The beginnings of horns can be seen as small bumps beneath the flesh on her forehead.
Jericha seems to be a kind of shock as she watches the child… her child… no their child… growing before her very eyes She hadn’t expected that Lord Salkeen would so quickly claim the child, and set into motion the child’s birth. Now as she watched their daughter, she felt things, things she didn’t think she would ever feel for the child rapidly aging before her.
When the aging next stops the child looks to be a young adult. She stands taller than her mother on hoofed legs. The horns grow from her head twist and curl backwards, she has her mother’s facial structure. Her flesh looks and feels soft, and smooth, yet it is exceptionally strong and able to withstand most forms of fel, light and fire. Her black hair falls down over her shoulders. The unexpected is the ultra thin vines that twine throughout her hair. Tiny leaves sprouting from them in different areas. A reminder of the one who sheltered her for centuries. Once more the fires burn bright transforming her for the last time. This time when it stops she is a young half demoness. She stands on cloven hooves, the holy light and burning flames become one with her flesh. As her body becomes a canvas of sigils and runes. They cover every in on her body except her face, palms and the bottoms of her feet. Armor made of both fire and light starts forming around her body. Made of the strongest of steels yet so light one wouldn’t even know it was their. She stands before them her head bowed and her eyes still closed.
Memories flood her mind of who she was before this, but along with them is the knowledge of who she is now. Her eyes open and she looks up taken in the sight of both her Demon Lord Father and her Void Witch Mother. She bows respectfully to them both, “Father, Mother,” it is then that the Ahcirej part of her shows itself. One moment she is standing before them the next she is hugging Ahcire… “Hello I’m Jaseiah, and you’re me…we’ll not me… but the me, that was me… before I stopped being me… and became me…” Jaseiah had spent centuries waiting to be born and now there was so much that she wanted to do. She needed to prove that she was worthy of this life she had been given. Getting a hold of herself she moves over to stand near Mother and Father…