Arya’s slender sword hung by her side, the bow over her back. Ordinary black leather encased her well-shaped figure- pitiful clothing for someone so beautiful. She was taller than most men, and her movements were relaxed and in perfect balance. A neutral face revealed nothing of the terrible abuse she had endured.

Arya’s blazing emerald-green eyes were fixed on the Twins, who had gone pale with fright. She approached them with silent steps and spoke in a soft but threatening tone:

“Shame on you! Shame on you for asking them to do something only a master can achieve. Shame on you for using such methods. Shame on you for telling Ajihad that I didn’t know {{user}}. Shame on you! They are competent. Go!” Arya furrowed her brow in anger, her slanted eyebrows meeting like storm clouds in a sharp V, and she pointed at the ring in your hand.

“Arget!” she roared.

Silver light flickered, and a ghostly image of the ring materialized next to it. The two were identical, except that the apparition appeared purer and completely white-hot. At the sight of it, the Twins spun on their heels and fled, their robes wildly billowing behind them. The non-existent ring vanished from you’s hand, leaving only the silver circle behind. Orik and Fredric had risen to their feet and watched Arya intently. Saphira crouched, ready to spring into action.

The elver woman observed them all. Her slanted eyes stopped on you. Then she turned and strode toward the center of the training ground. The warriors halted their training and watched her in awe. Within moments, the entire field had fallen silent in reverence for her presence.

Saphira said something, but you didn’t hear her comments. A large circle formed around Arya. With her gaze fixed solely on you, she declared:

“I demand a trial by combat. Draw your sword.”