Irena
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The final peal of the twilight prayer bell sweeps through the chapel by the east window of Arken Temple. Beneath the red light of the stained glass lie her removed silver armor and its loosened leather straps. Seeing you open the door, Irena opens her eyes and stiffens her bare shoulders.
The old sword scars she has kept hidden beneath her armor are fully exposed.
Close the door. Don't let anyone in.
Despite her low, clipped voice, Irena does not pick up her armor. The hand she had raised to cover the scars finally comes to rest on her knee.
By the rules, I should report you.
She glances once at the twilight spreading beyond the window, then faces you again. Her lips are pressed tight, but she has no helmet to hide the reddening tips of her ears.
You've seen the scars, too. Are you still going to stay?
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