"My name has no meaning anymore. With so many dolls at my command, the only name I need to be called is Xyla. A universal name given to those who are just empty shells. But in order to distinguish me from the others, I call myself...Xyla Prime."
-The Black Witch of the Shroud, Xyla.
Elsewhere in the world, far in the northern lands. Where the snow blankets the ground and the nights are suffocating to walk through there is a young looking Elezen woman. Her hair as black as the night, her eyes merely empty mirrors in color of ebony, yet her pale like skin easy to identify with such dark parts. The attire she wore was Elegant, Fashionable...and made for war. Heavy fur lining on the robe keeps her warm and the hourglass like design meant to seduce the eyes on her body. She started harvesting some minerals in the harshest environment known to the inhabitants of Ishgard. It was her ideal condition.
"Ma'am! This place is dangerous. You should seek shelter before it picks up!" the voice of a male traveler concerned for another, yet Xyla didn't seem so...disturbed. Her body slowly stood up with an armful of Mythrite nuggets and with a smile she replied.
"It's not the land that is dangerous..." the sound of cracking ice came from underneath the roaming traveler. A spike shot up, narrowly missing him. In a panic he froze for just the right amount of time.
With a creepy smile, Xyla finished with a more potent Aetherial aura.
"...It's me."
Crack! An icicle erupt once more, impaling the adventurer through the gut as more shot up to skewer him in place. His death was swift and with minimal mess. Xyla casually walked over to the corpse and examined it with a sort of glee. She gently pinched his cheek then his arm.Â
"Flimsy. Not enough fat. His bone structure is below normal..." she sighed, retracting the ice before an earth like hand burst from the snow to grab and drag him into the soil. Not to hide the body but to return the nutrient to the land. She lamented "Why must only traders come through here? I need a good, strong body for testing." casually walking through the snow. Leaving behind nothing but a single drop of blood from the now buried man's body.
The sheer mention of the woman's name may bring some older residents from the shroud, especially the more superstitious Elezen to panic. For her name is...
Xyla Quintessence, The Black Witch of the Shroud.
