How we think the fight will go
Ringil was in the midst of krinzanz withdrawal when he awoke, lying in an unfamiliar arena, unlike anything he’d seen in Trelayne or Yhelteth. Or maybe he was in the Ageless Realm with Seethlaw again. He loathed himself for it, but he longed for Seethlaw still, sometimes. Despite the fact Seethlaw clearly wanted to destroy humanity, Ringil regretted killing him. He regretted many things, actually.
He heard footsteps. He looked up and saw a tall woman approaching, with curly red hair, green eyes, and a pair of leather pants. She had an aura of magic around her, and looked cranky. She appeared unarmed, but he still reached for Ravensfriend, and there it was, practically jumping into his hand. He stood and said, “What’s your name?”
The woman narrowed her eyes and asked, “How about you put down that clearly fake sword of yours, and I’ll tell you my name?” Her accent was strange. All of her was strange. Ringil had no problems with women wearing pants (Archeth did all the time) but there was something very inhuman about her. Perhaps she was a dwenda herself?
Ringil shook his head. “Tell me your name first.”
The woman rolled her eyes. “Rachel.”
“I’m not telling a stranger with a sword my full name.”
“Seriously?” Rachel shook her head, and glanced around at the ground, searching for something. “Tell me your full name,” he said. “Only dwenda have one name.” He started towards her, preparing to knock her down with the flat of his sword before deciding how to kill her.
Rachel had found what she was looking for. After some quick motions like she was conducting music, she leaned down to the ground and suddenly Ringil’s vision was awash in red light. His nose itched. She twitched one of her hands and Ravensfriend went flying.
Ringil knew this was magic. He dug deep, and tried to summon the magic and anger he had felt at the Citadel. She had to be a dwenda. He had killed dwendas before—he could kill her, now, even without Ravensfriend.
Before he could do anything, though, he felt himself levitating off the ground. He looked down—or rather, he tried to look down, but his entire body was stiff. Rachel had him frozen and floating, three feet off the ground, with just one single extended hand.
She considered him, smirking, and asked, “Are Dwendas like demons?”
He could barely breathe, and he certainly couldn’t move. He was able to croak out, “S bit,” as he hung there, Ravensfriend lying on the ground fifteen feet away. He felt powerless and weak, and he hated her. And he hated himself for not learning how to control his new powers, his new abilities.
Rachel gave him a bright smile, and said, “Ah! Well, then yes. I guess I am a dwenda.”
She flung him against the wall, and he slid to the ground, unconscious or dead. She didn’t care. She disconnected from the ley line (and it was the weirdest ley line she’d ever used—weirder than black ones) and then turned on her heels and left the arena, muttering, “Now where the hell is Jenks?”
Predicted Winner: Rachel Morgan
NOTE: THIS MATCH ENDS ON THURSDAY, MARCH 8th, 2012, AT 5 PM, EST
Cage Match fans: We are looking forward to hearing your responses! If possible, please abstain from including potential spoilers about the books in your comments (and if you need spoilers to make your case, start your comments with: “SPOILER ALERT!”