At that, Sif’s expression brightens even further – the paths to her good graces are hardly clouded in mystery. The idea of having something tangible to do here – a student to train, instead of a vague foe to fight – is incredibly appealing to the woman some have nicknamed the goddess of war.

“It would be an honor.”

With a solider’s eye, she inspects Anya’s hands. They belong to someone willing to work. “You will develop a fair bit of calluses. I suggest wrapping your hands, after training sessions. I am not the most relaxed of teachers, and I suspect the same of Lady Alanna.”