There was a sharp whistling sound. Aphra dodged lightly to the side. A spear penetrated the spot she had been standing previously.
“Who goes there?â€? bellowed a deep, gruff voice.
“A new student candidate!â€? Aphra called back, in her surprisingly deep honeyed voice. The guard was silent for a moment.
“Come in!â€? the gates creaked open. Aphra nimbly paced on the surface of the snow, barely making a footprint. As she passed through the gate, she whipped out one of her butterfly swords and held it to the guard’s neck.
“If you have the audacity to hurl a spear at me again, you will never find another job,â€? she hissed under her breath, and scowled to show her fangs.
“U-u-understood,â€? the guard stuttered, quickly shutting the gates and hustling back to his post.

Aphra sheathed her butterfly sword with one swift movement and glided on.
Like some sort of ethereal being, she wafted down the hall. She turned heads;

Flaming red hair wasn’t a sight in these parts.