The woman, in response to his pleas, claimed that she was, in fact, the keeper of these wrings, warning him that they have wills of their own and will seek out the darkness within him. Surely, when she was referring to darkness in this case, she was referring to his endless pools of self doubt and loneliness, assured in the fact that the ice dragon would be unable to withstand the dark pull of such a malevolent object. That may have been true were he just an average man, but, true to the stories humans used to tell, Aeizith had his own little piles of treasure back home from his early dragonling days. It was nothing substantial, nothing like the vast hoards legends depict, what with the endless seas of gold coins and gems dotted with holy weapons and vast filled chest floating amidst the tide. No, the so-called "hoard" he possessed was only a few small chests worth, full, with a few gilded weapons and armor pieces scattered off to the side. It was akin to a child's "hoard" of candy they kept in the corner of their room when they were little. More to the point, among that small collection, was a cuirass, one forged from the scale of a titanic black dragon with a small blood-ruby planted firmly in the center. Although incredibly impressive in its own right, worth 4... maybe 5 times its weight in gold in aesthetics alone, what truly made this piece of armor worth its salt was it's enchantments. It made one practically invulnerable to conventional means when worn, its only real dent in its defenses being void or a dragonic weapon. It granted Strength without end (gradually building), stamina, everything one would need to make a perfect warrior, but there was also a terrible cost. If worn for an extensive period of time, the armor would begin to contaminate the mind of the one wearing said armor, slowly, but surely turning them into a twisted agent of destruction. Aeizith could feel the anger, the boiling evil that radiated from the armor as he held it in his claws that first, time, he could imagine that evil worming its way into his head at several times that intensity and yet... if it came down to it... He was confident he could have withstand its effects, at the very least, longer than any human. He believe the same was true of the ring he sought, though it was far less cumbersome.
Finally, based on his reaction to her staff, she judged him to be a dragon, Aeizith cocked his head to the side, surprised, wondering how she got to be that good. Maybe people just didn't like skeletons or just dragon skeletons... It may have been crazy, but could she possibly read minds...? Well, after him falling in love with an angel/demon, anything was possible. She estimated his magical power and will to be equal to that of the Crimson Pettle, suggesting that he should train to use it.
"You're right... I am a dragon..." He confessed, stepping forward. "M-my name is Aeizith a-and I understand your concern... really, I-I do... And I appreciate y-your caution and believe you have a good reason f-for it. But I am confident I-In myself and m-my knowledge of myself... How can I prove t-to you that I can h-handle it...?" It wasn't as if he knew that the rings could only be transferred willingly, but he felt a need to prove his worth to her, both as a matter of achievement and a matter of self-respect. He wanted to know himself if he was good enough for this artifact.
