It was near midnight when the sorcerer saw her delicate form, shimmering in the moonlight. Her hair was like the fires of Mephisto's realm, but her skin was an equally, if oppositely unearthly shade of emerald. In short, she was a creature unlike any Strange had ever previously encountered. The lush velvet and taffeta of the Cloak of Levitation whipped and danced in the wind as he floated away from the ancient castles' battlements and down to where she stood, a vision of loveliness against the otherwise barren field.

"Is it not a cold evening for a stroll, my dear?" The turquoise covered tips of his toes touched down on the cold, damp grass as the cloak gently floated them to the ground, its hem splaying elegantly behind him.