[center][img]https://s10.postimg.org/a89eug7yh/Header_75.gif[/img]
[h1][i][color=#8AB8E6]Mira Grace[/color][/i][/h1]
Dɪᴀʟᴏɢᴜᴇ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✦ [color=#8AB8E6]#8AB8E6[/color] [color=#ebb40e]||[/color] Tʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ Cᴏʟᴏʀ ✧ [color=#EBB40E]#EBB40E[/color]
[/center][hr]

For a single moment, everything was still.

[color=#e70060]"My class is Saber."[/color] The firm yet gentle voice echoed faintly in the now-silent chamber, and Mira found herself unconsciously jolting bolt upright, as if standing at attention. She had no idea what manner of Servant she'd summoned, but from her very first words - not even to mention from the power she could sense behind them - she instinctively knew that this woman, whoever she was, deserved the utmost respect, and should receive nothing less as a guest in the Witch's home.

[color=#e70060]"As the one who summoned me, you can only be my Master. Is this correct?"[/color] Mira opened her mouth to answer, but felt as if her lungs were devoid of air. She was... talking to someone? This had never happened before. Not since her mother's death had she been in the company of another being that could understand her. It was everything she'd dreamed of, and yet, she couldn't help but suddenly feel terrified. How was she supposed to talk to other people? What if she said something wrong and upset this woman? Unlike her familiars, this spirit had a will of her own and the freedom to act upon it. She couldn't afford to make her Servant angry with her before the war even started... What was she supposed to say? What was she supposed to do?

She couldn't think of anything else, and so bowed deeply, removing her hat with one hand - it was only polite to show deference to such an eminent person, wasn't it? - while awkwardly trying to perform a proper curtsy with the other when she hadn't practiced etiquette in years.

[color=#8AB8E6]"M-my name is Mira Grace,"[/color] She said softly. Her voice barely managed more than a whisper, but she nevertheless forced the words out, even though the very nature of her being went against speaking, filling her mind with countless fears and possibilities. [color=#8AB8E6]"As you've said, I... indeed summoned you just now, and the connection seems to have been established properly."[/color] She held up her yet-bloodied hand, turning it to show the arcane marking upon its back - a crimson pattern resembling two crossed swords, each curving across the other and then back upward, adorned on either side with four wing-like shapes of criss-crossing lines reminiscent of veins. [color=#8AB8E6]"However... I am not the one to decide whether or not I am your Master."[/color] She rubbed the cut on the palm of her hand unconsciously, a faint pulse of prana flowing through it as her Magical Crest activated, and a simple healing spell closed the wound. [color=#8AB8E6]"That is to say, this ritual only grants me the power to compel you to act a total of three times, correct? Then, outside of that, the only sense in which I would be your 'Master' is if you chose to serve me for the sake of preserving both our lives together, and seeing both of our wishes granted."[/color]

She took a deep breath. She needed to be polite, concise, but most importantly, direct. In a battle, no great warrior would desire to serve under an indecisive captain. Then, if those sorts of words where what was required...!

[color=#8AB8E6]"Then... Rather than asking me if I am to be your Master..."[/color] She mustered as much courage as she could, and said the first thing that came to her head.

[color=#8AB8E6]"I ask of you, Saber: are you my Servant?"[/color]