As the words were spoken in accordance with the ritual the summoning circle began to glow with blinding intensity, brighter and brighter until for an instant it seemed that the searing corona of the sun itself had accidentally been brought forth into the small abandoned house. Then it was washed out in a sudden flood of cool mist that scattered the light into firefly-like sparkles and where once there was only empty space a figure now stood.

As the mist cleared it revealed a figure with long hair that flowed like a small waterfall of black ink, a harsh, sharp-angled face with keenly observant but dispassionate eyes and rich silk robes and bracers and a choker of solid gold. The most eye-catching thing about the Servant occupying the center of the circle wasn't any of these things. That particular honor belonged to his weaponry, a quiver full of overlarge arrows with jade heads whose fletching must have come from some unnaturally enormous bird and a bow of bright red and gold coloration. 

He regarded the girl outside the circle with something between amusement and annoyance, but without any further delays he spoke up:

"So, let's get this over and done with haste, girl. Are you my Master or what?"