You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant. You will be dead.
Name: Lucy.
Height: 5'7.
Weight: 180 lbs.
Age: 21.
Hair: Ginger.
Eyes: Hazel/Black.
The Modern-Day Mystic.
Lucy was an aspiring singer from London, working a dead-end job, until a few simple words changed her life.
"You will be loved. You will be hated. You will be brilliant. You will be dead."
A man she later learned was the Sorcerer Supreme of the realm said them to her. He appeared in her home, spoke them to her, and disappeared- never to be seen again.
Within minutes, she began to feel it. The well of mystic energy in her, awakening. The marking around her eyes, ever-changing, began to appear. She could wield the mystic arts like no other... but most importantly, she could sing.
Lucy inherited a whole mystic library, with her new powers, but as it transpired, she didn't want it. She had been chosen as this generation's Supreme not because of her wisdom, but because of her undiscovered, untapped mana reserves. She has more than enough raw power to simply channel balefire at anything that looks at her sideways. Instead of seeking out magical threats, as her job would demand, Lucy became what she always wanted to be- a singer. She'll deal with an otherworldly monster when one attacks, but she has no plan to hang around in a tower and read 'ancient tomes' all day.
The immense power and talent she's happened into comes at something of a cost. She will die. Painfully. No Sorcerer Supreme ever escapes this curse, or manages to die peacefully. Lucy will be no exception.