You shudder, a presence surrounds you. You can't see it or feel it - but some deeply buried instinct tells you it is there. The presence bears the weight of many years. Currently it is not at it's full power. You hear one word before it rushes at you, knocking you unconscious. "Scion".

A scion bears the mind, soul, and powers of the deity which possesses him or her. A god, or maybe one of the Seelie or Unseelie, or even a dragon of myth, so long as it is sentient the being may join with a scion.

Ancient beings are awakening from myth from every culture. They are possessing people. Something is happening - a crisis of some sort approaches.

The scion and possessor both get along - they must eventually. They must co-exist in the same body.

You are a scion. You are humanities hope.

Azurael awoke with a start in a cold sweat. "Ugh, what was that? Probably last night's fish pie." Azurael said to heraelf.

"Not quite" A whisper of a male voice said.

"What!" Azurael exclaimed. "First time a voice ever answered me back."

"No child, you are my vessel, my Scion. I am Samael, one of the many personifications of Death." Samael said.

"Ah ha." Azurael said, disbelief evident.

"Look in your dresser mirror." Samael said.

Azurael followed his instructions and started when saw a wraith-like figure looking back. "Okay, now I believe you." Azurael said, elicting a chuckle from Samael.

"Go out and look for other Scions. You need to group together." Samael said.

Azurael went to the closest place she knew a lot of people would gather. The local mall.