The moment she lunged, the air shattered around her, fire curling off her skin like living wings, each step leaving ripples in the black water below, and Sylvaris had no time to think, he barely had time to react. His sword was already drawn, white and gleaming, the blade humming with an ancient light as it met her descending strike with a flash of heat and steel, sparks exploding between them as flame and holiness clashed for the first time.
Her blade danced, not like a soldier's, but like something born in fire and instinct, her attacks fluid and brutal, a blur of spinning slashes and sudden feints that forced him to step back again and again. He jabbed toward her stomach, quick and direct, but she twisted her body mid-air, letting the blade pass through flame that didn't seem to burn her, and countered with a downward arc that nearly split his shoulder had he not parried in time.
