A blinding flash, a boom that shakes the bedrock, and then Maribelle blinks. Her eyes open onto a field of smooth, dark stone stretching in every direction. Pale red light shimmers from above, flickering across an invisible dome.
High atop a viewing platform carved into the jagged cliffs ringing the arena sits Vexena, lounging beside her general, Eris. Between them stands the tiny figure of Virelle, bouncing on her toes with a bright grin.
"Maribelle," Vexena's voice echoes, haughty and commanding, "do you require weapons or armor, or will you face my daughter with your bare hands?"
Maribelle frowns and shouts up, "I'm a spellsword. Something... appropriate."
Eris snaps her fingers. A flash of golden light engulfs Maribelle, and when it fades, she finds herself clad in masterwork armor laced with pulsing runes, a gleaming sword hovering before her, vibrating with overwhelming magic.
Maribelle stares at it. "This thing is humming like a beehive." She grins despite herself.
