Kisthæ huffed sotftly as she pulled her dog tags over her head. She felt her fingers brush over the zodiac symbol for Virgo. She lifted the tag up, and stared at it intensely, feeling as if it was more of a personal death sentence handed to her by the law rather than her wanting to fight for her living.

She dropped the dog tags, letting them bounce against her chest, until she decided to pull the Ring that she was handed from the pockets of her mid-thigh, bouncy skirt. It was a black, shiny toy to her, really; a child's dream and fantasy come real, conjuring images of Victorian children playing with ball-jointed, lily-lace dressed dolls.

The ring, in her absentmindedness, had slipped onto her finger.

Before Kisthæ stood now a man, who stared right back at her with creamy-white and violet eyes. He held his hand on his hips, and tossed his head back, disturbing the soft golden hair that jaggedly fell towards his cheeks.

To Kisthæ, he seemed like a Victorian Vampire Goth come to life; he had the perfect clothes for one, too – a pirate-designed overcoat with a red base, black strappings and black belt-ties. Underneath, he wore a white Renaissancal blouse, with black 'bloomers' and dark brown boots. The whole ensemble made him quite an intimidating person, with his hand now on his scabbard and taking a more victorious stance.

"I take it you're the one who summoned me?" he asked, in a very old accent, that sounded almost as if it came from the former Scotland.

"I would imagine I am, yes," Kisthæ replied hesitantly.

When he did not reply a second time, she carefully pulled her right leg behind her left, and bent slowly in the fashion of a curtsey. He seemed stunned, though he respectfully bowed back, bending his right arm – with his left still on the scabbard – over his stomach and bowing back to Kisthæ.

"My name is Elfrið, madame, and I'm happy to make your acquaintance. I specialize in sword to sword combat, although I have also worked on stealth attacks, and have mastered the art of firing one arrow every ten minutes." He said the last part with a grin, and Kisthæ couldn't help but grin as well.

"Elfrið, my name is Kisthæ. I guess I'm your new Master." She looked around herself, tugging slightly at the thin jacket she wore. "We should be moving. It's too early to see anybody out and about – at least, this close to the gates, but I wouldn't want to run any risks. And it's far too damn cold."

Elfrið nodded. He pulled his jacket off, as if to offer it to Kisthæ, but she waved him away and started walking.

It was silence that simply hung in the air, never moving, and it appeared to have the intentions of staying for a while. Kisthæ, personally, did not see the need to mess with it; her companion, however, had different ideas, and decided to push for a conversation.

"How old are you?" he asked.

Kisthæ paused mid-stride, but quickly picked up her pace, and looked straight at the ground in her nervousness. "I'm 24," she whispered, hoping he didn't hear. But, Elfrið had heard, and nodded. She continued to speak, asking him, "Dare I ask how old you are? I can't imagine you're any younger than me."

Elfrið laughed. He grinned at her, and continued laughing, the small clicks of his heels against the pavement swept away by the noise. When he was done, which seemed to be a while to Kisthæ, Elfrið turned to her and said, ''I've been wandering the Soul Realms for... nigh... 6,500 years? Yeah. Something about that.''

He shrugged, whereas Kisthæ simply stared at him with her mouth open and gaping at finally realised that he had stopped, and turned to her with a questioning glare. ''Is everything alright, Kisthæ?'' he asked, concerned.

She simply continued staring. ''You're... You're like, 6,550 years old. Holy fuck. Do you expect me to be calm over this?''

''I expect you to ask rationally, that is all I ask for,'' came the reply. ''I asked to be a Ring Soul a few hundred years ago, or so, but they haven't accepted me until now.'' The soul shrugged, and continued walking, not bothered at all whether Kisthæ followed or not.

She pushed herself to continue walking just as he did, until Elfrið stopped in front of the building that they were to enter. He knew Kisthæ was about to ask a question of why he stopped, and he held up his hand, silencing any noise that was to come from her.

''You're being challenged,'' he whispered. ''You can either forfeit now and basically end your time here in the battle-zone, or life in general. Or I can fight for you, my liege, with no guarantee at all how this fight will turn out.'' Elfrið had angled his head, so that he neither stared at Kisthæ nor did he speak to the challenger.

''Just go for it already, Kilbert.''

''Yes, sir.''

Streaking from the side of the building was a black figure, seemingly cloaked in the shadows as it moved straight for Elfrið. His sword was out of his scabbard in a moment, and the clash of steel against steel was ringing throughout the street.

The ninja-like stealther had his sword pulled away in a moment, cutting under Elfrið's sword in a double-ribbon arc, hoping to either sever his left leg or cut his hip severely, possibly injuring later movement.

Kisthæ's spirit jumped hastily to the right, dodging around his enemy and slashing in a straight half-circle as he did so. The steel met flesh, but it was quickly removed in a second movement, leaving little to no damage at all.

For the next few moments, all the sound that was heard was the constant clanging of steel. Kisthæ noticed how effortlessly Elfrið seemed to block every movement, although she could hear him having difficulties breathing already.

Eventually, he managed to swing his sword solely with his right hand, kick at his legs, and rch out with his left hand to place another object to avoid. His sword cut, and he kicked the spirit to the ground, holding his sword gracefully over it's throat.

''The battle is over,'' he announced to Kisthæ, standing and gently cleaning his sword with the hood from the other spirit's cape. To the challenging Master, Elfrið said, ''I demand your tags. And half of whatever money you have.''

The old man took his tags off his neck, and threw them to the ground, along with several discolored green paper bills. He stormed off into the building, and Elfrið picked them up for Kisthæ, gently dusting off the tags before presenting them while kneeling on his right knee.

''What chivalry,'' she teased, taking his prizes with a smile. ''Thank you, Elfrið. Thank you so much. I don't think I'd be alive very long without you by my side.''

''Kisthæ, that's just the first fight. Please, do not expect me to win every time. I will never have such luck with any sole Master, therefore, I apologise to you for such a fate.'' Elfrið dusted off his knee as he stood, and opened the door for Kisthæ as she stepped inside the building.

A cool wave of air brushed over them. She felt the air, and paused, spreading her arms to let the air flood over her. It lasted for only a few moments until she was pushed to the side b her Spirit, and Kisthæ started walking up the stairs.

''I'm afraid I'll be leaving you, dear, but only for a few hours; these wounds require healing which I doubt you can give to me.'' Elfrið was waiting at the base of the stairs, and as soon as the last echo of his words had disappeared, he was gone as well.

Kisthæ simply continued climbing. It would have done no good to stop now, since she had a few more flights to go, although she still knew that Elfrið would be there when she needed him. She took off the ebony Ring and placed it back in her skirt pocket, pulling the jacket off when she realized that she was finally on the fifth level. Her level.

She opened the door that led to the various apartments, and closed her eyes before walking. She kept them closed, and opened them when she felt she was at the right spot, with an emotional confirmation by Elfrið.

The door opened practically by itself, enticing the Ring Master to step in, just as she did. Inside, it seemed plain enough, with a couch in front of a few windows, and several other doors. One of which Kisthæ assumed to be the bedroom, the other the bathroom.

They must've known she was alone, she thought, as she walked into the kitchen that was located in the same large room that the couch was. Nothing was in the fridge, so she raided the cabinets, and found a package of peanuts, which she quickly picked up and sat on the floor to devour.

Later, I'll have to take a shower. I guess I haven't taken one since I got on the ship. Can't imagine it'll be any easier here in the Battle Zone... Should keep my tags on me. Hopefully I won't die in the night.