The swirling copper mist contracted toward the center of the summoning circle, condensing into incandescent ribbons of molten light.
Standing within the receding thermal glow was a tall, imposing woman whose broad shoulders radiated the immovable presence of an anvil.
Her charcoal-gray hair hung tied back in a utilitarian bundle, revealing two curved obsidian horns sweeping gracefully from her temples.
Subtle draconic scales traced the contours of her forearms and knuckles, catching the dying embers with dull metallic reflections.
Her slit eyes, burning with liquid amber flame, narrowed as she inhaled her first breath of mortal air.
The sudden influx of northern draft caused her to cough, her throat releasing a faint plume of gray cinder smoke.
"Thin air... stone... and dead atmospheric mana," she muttered in a raspy voice that vibrated against the walls.
"Welcome to the frontier," Hajin said, rising to his feet.
