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Angela was perched high above the city, cast in stone as was her birthright as Demona came upon her. The ensorcelled gargoyle looked upon her daughter, seeing all the signs of their shared heritage, and trying not to reminisce upon the ones that came so strongly from Goliath.

"One day, perhaps, I will tell you all of how I came to walk my path. Possibly that day will be soon. Probably it will not. Maybe, I will one day regret not speaking when you can hear me, for I know the sanctity of life is a myth. You could be gone as the night comes, or perhaps MacBeth will finally find a way to break the curse upon us both." Demona spread a hand along her daughter's stony cheek. "Regardless, you are mine, and one day you may find yourself questioning as I did. Then, you will seek me out, I have no doubt." Her words said, she reached inside her purse, withdrawing a heavy chain with a locket on it, and carefully left it around Angela's neck.

It would be the only sign she had been there, before she turned and left to pursue her own goals.