Seraphine Masalha / Elazar
Seraphine drew in a sharp breath before nodding and drawing her sword, her lungs started to burn before she remembered to exhale. "Of course, sir." The blade of her sword was the light silver of steel, the hilt was dark and very much matched the rich purples, blues and yellow lines on the top of her dragon's head. It was small enough to be used comfortably with one or two hands. There was an engraving on her blade as well though she had yet to name the blade, in beautiful script it read: mor'ranr unin dauth,or; peace in death. Seraphine dulled the blade with an enchantment as well. Elazar blew air through his nose in amusement and responded to Ailla It will be. I'm afraid our dear Captain has forgotten how...lacking Seraphine's sword skill is. She's nervous, though she won't admit it. Seraphine held her sword in a ready position, mustering as much confidence as she could manage, not wanting to disappoint. The fingers of her glove could just barely be seen pulsing on the hilt as she adjusted to the weight of the sword in her hands. The determined gaze of her blue eyes, reflecting in violet hues from the coloring of her armor and sword, locked onto the Captain, and she gave a small nod to signal her ready.