Saber - Servant of Angelina Flores
Brightness begot darkness.
Lightning begot thunder.
Just as Angelina had fulfilled all the requirements asked of her to reach out towards the Heroic Spirit bound to the blade she had offered, so did the Heroic Spirit answer in kind. The swelling light of her established Magic Circle trembled upon reaching its peak before dispersing into the room, giving way to a nigh oppressive cloud of magical energy, partially composed of Angelina's very own Prana she had sacrificed to this deceivingly simple ritual, while the remainder of it exuded a dense weight which clearly marked it as separate. And yet they mingled. Swirled. Became one. Congregating around the very center of the spent Magic Circle, the unified mixture of energies took shape; a perceivable bond now linking
it to Angelina.
Saber took her first breath as Angelina's Servant.
Her black hair was long and thick, yet groomed to a glossy shine even as it was tied up in a high ponytail to keep it from obstructing her view. A delectable pair of curved strands ordinarily framed the sides of her face, yet currently they dangled away from her and pointed to the ground as she had assumed the position of a kneeled bow. Her skin was likewise smooth and milky, the sheer quality of the care put into her appearance marking her as either nobility or the daughter of a wealthy family, and it was in fact quite easy to picture her asian features garbed in the expensive oriental dresses of her home-country. She bore the attributes of a princess, not a warrior, and yet despite that she wore her armor with comfortable familiarity and trust.
Limiting the amount of inlaid metal plating sawn into her arms, shins, shoulders, and waist, her equipment consisted of studded leather worn over a base of thick clothen under-armor dyed in a rich blue and displaying an elegant pattern. The studded leather was tightly fastened with red decorative cord, the piece adorning her chest even sporting a pleasant design alongside the protective plating as proof of its high-quality make and no doubt exuberant price. It was clear that this armor was crafted with the intention of being equal parts functional and regal, no doubt to separate her from the common foot-soldiers in the field of battle. Red tassels hung from her waist and shoulders, a snow-white sash wrapped thrice around her hips and tied into a neat bow, and around her neck rested the cords that kept a modest cape from sliding off her back. Its edges were trimmed with gold and its outer fabric shimmered in a pure white, the underside dyed in a mellow blue, and its function seemed to simply serve as protection against wind and rain and nothing more. Though it wasn't as thin as her silken sash, it also was not made to be needlessly thick lest it obstructed her movements, so it would prove to be a paltry defense against anything other than the subdued forces of nature.
Her sword.
Unfastened from its place by her left hip, it now lay parallel to her body to her right, its curved edge pointed towards her even as it still rested in its vibrantly ornamented sheath. The sheath's lacquered wood as well as the blade's handle were painted in a pale electric blue and covered in beautiful metalwork of glimmering gold from pommel to tip. Almost like a reoccurring motif of her appearance, a striking red cord adorned even the handle of her trusted blade and was fashioned to grant her a secure grip even if it were to be covered in blood and sweat.
But for some reason it had been removed from her side.
Had it been placed to her left with its blade pointed outwards, it would have allowed her to draw it at a moment's notice should the need arise, and yet it currently occupied the exact opposite position. She had purposefully removed her blade from herself and placed it on a side difficult for her to reach, and what was more, between herself and her trusted sword existed one more. Naked. With neither sheath nor guard to furnish it, this blade lay naked between the two, creating even more distance between them. It was the catalyst in fact, the artifact provided by Angelina to call upon her Servant, and while it had occupied the center of the circle only moments ago, it had now been carefully arranged beside the entity that had heeded its call.
She was currently formally prostrated on her knees before her Master.
Her still features were obscured by a wavering curtain of her own black hair as she was bowed deeply before her liege, her lean muscular body tensed in apprehension, though not to an uncomfortable degree.
Even when she finally began to talk, her eyes were firmly fixed towards the ground.
"The life you have granted me shall be yours to command," her voice was that of a raspy whisper, quite deep and mature for a woman,
"The blade at my side is now sworn to your service. I am your Servant, Warrior of the Sword, and I hereby swear to shield your body from any harm that may befall it with mine own. From this day on until the day we part you are my Master."Her words were articulated and precise, her speech presented dutifully and reverently.
"If you consent to these terms allow me but a single inquiry..." her long lashes closed as she paused briefly before addressing Angelina once more,
"My Lord, what is your name?"