Two days passed by as though in the blink of an eye, eaten up by his new fixation. He addressed just about everything he'd written in his notes during his impromptu 'interview', and the various books and scrolls he'd wanted to reference had been located, read, and then organized by relevance and usefulness.
Of course, he still had his actual duties to attend to, but as much of his work was done without any real supervision (just intermittent updates on his findings) he was free to prioritize other ventures within reason.

And so the day of their 'appointment' arrived, and Padca's desk had a new stack of paper and tomes just waiting for Kyran's arrival. Not one to waste time with inane things like pacing uselessly, Padca had instead gone to organize one of the occult sections to pass the time - and to see if any other books might grab his attention.
This is where the front desk worker found him, though her frown could possibly rival his own as she looked deeply unimpressed while relaying the message that Padca's 'guest' had arrived. He took a moment to squint at her, wondering if it was worth asking if her demeanor was due to said guest or something else, but he quickly discarded the idea and instead gave her a curt nod before making brisk strides toward the library's foyer. He supposed he would find out soon enough for himself if Kyran was the cause.

He stopped short of his goal upon actually catching sight of Kyran - or rather, his full arms. What on earth - was that FOOD?? With the intensity of his frown growing exponentially, Padca jerked back into motion and closed the gap between them on stiff legs.
"Kyran."
He stalled out, completely at a loss for what to address first as his eyes flicked from one bowl (house special by the shade of red alone), to the other (some other dish), to the vase and its flowers (were those moon lilies??), and then finally back up to Kyran's face where he could only stare incredulously at him. For once his eloquence fled him in the face of his bewilderment.
"Why?"

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Qadir Darzi
Age
27
Gender
Female (trans)
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Adelan (Serenian ancestry)
Height
5'10"
Occupation
Noble, previously Master of the Archers
Residence
Ketra

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
Qadir greatly resembles her Serenian ancestry, very obviously having Fae blood in her. It is most evident in her hair, which is cut fairly short and is all white, aside from a chunk of bangs that are streaked with lavender. Her one good eye is also rather unusual, being of a rich teal color - the other is always covered by a faded red cloth eyepatch, as a devastating wound relieved her of the organ entirely. Her skin is sandy brown, though it does not seem to vary in hue even when out in the sun for extended periods, and she has a few scars on various parts of her body from her life as a Yeoman (longbow archer). She's somewhat lanky, with extremely powerful yet lithe muscles. Her upper body is very toned, with clear definition in her arms and back especially, and her fingers are very calloused.
Thanks to being nobility now, Qadir can afford fabrics in deep, rich hues - though she always goes for comfort over fashion. Her top of choice is robe-style (which she often leaves pretty well completely open) in a relatively thick navy blue material. Her pants are dark purple and quite loose, especially around her lower legs, so that they easily fall over her soft brown leather boots. Her only accessory is a silver chain and pendant - the pendant greatly resembling crosshairs inside a circle (yes really lol).

Personality
Qadir is...definitely a soldier. Not just in her ability, but also her general demeanor. She lacks manners and social graces, and quite frankly doesn't give a damn. She's very vulgar, using language that would never be appropriate around 'proper' lady folk, and tends to just speak her mind at all times. Yuudai often describes her as 'mildly insane', simply due to Qadir's brash, fiery, straight-on approach to any and all problems. If she knows she annoys someone, she will often go out of her way to continue to do so, delighting in their irritation. She's very flippant about sex, considering it quite fun and patently refusing to be shamed about how much of it she has. As one might assume, she also does not take orders well, and she worked hard to attain the rank of Master of the Archers so that she would only have to answer to the head General. It's only during a fight that Qadir seems to buckle down, and despite her seemingly obvious personality issues, she is extremely skilled at leading others and getting things done in as quick and efficient a way as possible.
Qadir knows she's brash and without censor, and she allows Yuudai to act as her 'better half'- her voice of reason, so to speak. Yuudai is one of the few people Qadir whole-heartedly respects, and she loves the man like a brother, so she's often more than willing to comply with Yuudai's wishes (even if she complains -loudly- the entire time).
Like her best friend, Qadir is not handling her 'retirement' well, and she is going crazy with boredom. She often takes to terrorizing her own house staff (and Yuudai's) as well as any and all nobility she runs into at social functions. Hobbies, the local brothel - anything to keep her entertained!

Magic/Abilities
Archery Master - Qadir is a master of the longbow. While all Yeomen are trained to rapidly fire arrows with precision, Qadir is a head above the rest and she knows it. Her accuracy is to the point of being inhuman - even with a lost eye, her ability to put an arrow where she wants it is master level. It may be due to her Fae blood, but her eye and muscle memory have continued to make her a fearsome archer even with her handicap.

Swordsmanship - Of course, she couldn't always rely on a bow and arrows in a battle. Thus, like all Yeoman, she was trained extensively with a melee weapon as well - her choice being duel-wielded falchions. She did a lot of training with Yuudai, and thus she too knows many different weak points on armor. She generally goes for the armpits, the joint where the leg armor meets the torso armor, and any other joints/openings she can spot - her goal is to hit major arteries so that her enemy simply bleeds to death in moments.

Hunting - Due to boredom. With nothing else to do, and wanting to keep her archery skills sharp, Qadir has taken to hunting regularly. Often she keeps the meat to be used at home and gives the pelts to Yuudai for his leatherworking hobby.

Horsemanship - Due to boredom. As an offset to her hunting, Qadir started to master the art of properly handling horses. Her favorite is makeshift agility courses, where she trains her horses to jump and turn sharply, testing both their abilities and reflexes.

Metalworking - Due to boredom. Yet another hobby taken up to pass the time, Qadir has a small workshop where she makes all manner of things, from trinkets and jewelry to tack for her horses. Often unable to use everything she makes, she likes to randomly give it away as gifts - or as she views it, getting rid of junk she doesn't actually need.

Relationships
Yuudai - her best friend and brother from another mother, Qadir is distantly related to Yuudai but she met him during training. They became fast friends, and have remained close through thick and thin. Qadir was injured in the same battle as Yuudai, losing her right eye. If he is her 'voice of reason', then Qadir is his 'agent of chaos'.

House staff - They will likely be teased and annoyed by her constantly, though she's not really mean spirited about it (most of the time). If she gets to be too much, you can always complain to Yuudai - his Disapproving Stare is one of the few things that will actually make her shamefaced.

War buddies - People she battled alongside and trained and what have you: friends, rivals, people she slept with (or all of the above)

Brothels - Qadir likes to flirt and fuck (and especially so when she's bored) so she's become a rather common face in any local establishments. She treats sex-workers well and never shirks payment, so even if she's an irritating little shit she is also quite well-liked.

Romance & the like - Qadir will be the first to tell you that she loves sleeping around, and that she has no interest in romance. While the first is genuinely true, the second may not be - Qadir has struggled with gender and gendered expectations her whole life. Yuudai would be willing to bet her staunch avoidance and outright derision of 'love' and 'settling down' is largely due to spite (and her innate desire to be contrary) - were she to stop fighting every hint of Feelings, she might actually fall head over heels. Frankly, Yuudai would pay good money just to see Qadir with a crush.
Regardless, Qadir is pansexual - if it seems fun/interesting, she's down to try it. Much like how she refuses to feel shame about her number of sexual exploits, she also refuses to feel shame about her atypical anatomy - if you have a problem with her dick, she's happy to introduce you to her killer right hook.

History
Qadir comes from a family line of Yeomen, and she never really had any other path but to join the military. She always had a headstrong personality, and she hated taking orders - this did not endear her to her peers or supervisors. Since Yuudai quickly grew tired of listening to her bitch about it, her friend told her if she hated taking orders so much she should just become the man in charge. And that was exactly what Qadir did - she worked her ass off to become the Master of the Archers, and she was damn good at it too.
Her fight to sit atop the hill nearly came undone when she finally started to live truly, authentically as herself - it probably didn't help she did this by VERY publicly announcing (to the full mess hall) that she was and always had been a woman, was tired of letting people assume otherwise, and that if anyone had a problem they could come fucking fight her about it. Qadir proudly boasts that not a single shithead challenger managed to beat her that day (though Yuudai has to mention that was only due to him literally watching her back during the absolute mess that turned out to be).
She suffered only one truly terrible injury that resulted in her losing her right eye, and like Yuudai, she's spent the better part of a year healing. Due to her exemplary service and loyalty (even if her personality left a bit to be desired), she was given a lesser noble title and 'retired' from active service. To her, it's very much like a punishment, and she would love to give those in charge a piece of her mind. Luckily, though Yuudai will humor her musings about the crazy things they could do to lose their noble title, her friend keeps her in check - it helps he lets her use some of those ideas to scare off his annoying suitors.

__________________QUICK STATS
Name
Yuudai Kita
Age
30
Gender
Male
Species
Human
Ethnicity
Adelan
Height
6'4"
Occupation
Noble (ex-Knight)
Residence
Ketra

__________________IN-DEPTH STUFF

Physical Description
With broad shoulders and a narrow waist, it's very evident that he used to be a knight, retaining much of his muscle mass and strength despite living a newly 'posh' life as a noble. His skin is a sandy brown, though it darkens even further out in the sun, and is marred by pinkish scars from his time in the military. Many of the scars are from bladed weapons, or smaller puncture wounds, though nothing obviously life threatening - apart from one. On his left side, there is a massive scar, and four of his ribs are very obviously bent if one were to run their hand along them - it's the result of a mace blow that crumpled his armor into his body. Interestingly, this is not the wound that forced him off of active service. A rather nondescript scar on the inside of his right thigh, just above his knee, holds that distinction. A spear pierced the joint of his armor, tearing through muscles and tendons and gouging his inner knee. He's been recovering for months now, and is about as healed as he's going to get, though he walks with a noticeable limp and lacks the mobility he once had.
He keeps his ink black hair long these days, able to keep it nice now, though he never does anything fancy - it just gets tied off at the nape of his neck or braided. His only particularly unusual trait are his dark turquoise eyes, always with a sleepy sort of half-lidded appearance. He generally wears a white shirt that has a very wide neck, ending at the very edges of his shoulders. The long sleeves would generally be loose and puffy around his lower arms, but a crisscrossing of leather cord on his forearms holds it down. He has form fitting, deep indigo pants, with a thick red sash tied at his waist. He wears rather basic black leather boots, which hug his calves and have just a few silver embellishments on the clasps, toe, and heel. Not one for wearing many accessories, he sports only a pair of silver drop earrings, inlaid with turquoise (a gift from Qadir).

Personality
Yuudai is a friendly, laid back man much of the time. He takes life at his own pace, though he's quite well versed in taking orders from others (since he's done it most of his life lol). He's usually rather polite, but he knows how to cut loose with friends and banter back and forth. Overall, he has a rather strong 'big brother' streak, just naturally taking care of and looking after others with genuine concern. Sometimes his mother-hen tendencies can bother others, but he honestly cannot help himself. He will bend over backward for friends and family, often giving into their whims and spoiling them whenever possible - even when he knows he probably shouldn't.
For all his soft smiles and calm demeanor, Yuudai is fiercely loyal to his kingdom, friends, and family. There are some things he simply will not budge on, and he can become quite steely when pushed about certain topics. His gentle personality also takes a back seat when he's fighting - he becomes a completely focused, brutally efficient killer. He does what is necessary to ensure the safety of his home and its people, and he's more than willing to put himself in harm's way to protect everything that is important to him.
On that note, he finds his new 'retired' life to be rather...boring. It was nice for a while, but he feels useless without a weapon in his hands - he would much rather be out fighting, or at least training the next generation of knights. Some days it's a lot like watching a panther pacing his cage.

Magic/Abilities
Glaive Mastery - Yuudai's weapon of choice is the Glaive, and he wields it with frightening proficiency. He uses his height and strength to his advantage, and has learned the weak points in many types of armor. Most often he will aim for the neck and face, and it is not uncommon for him to completely behead a foe with one strike. Of course, these days he's not as nimble and able thanks to the lasting wound he received, but he makes a point of practicing anyway: rain or shine (pain or not).

Cooking - Due to boredom. With little else to occupy his time, Yuudai has taken to cooking almost all his own meals. Once proficient, he quickly began to experiment, and currently his repertoire of recipes is rather formidable.

Tailoring - Due to boredom. Once cooking was mastered, Yuudai then took to handling his own clothing, often buying nice fabrics and then creating whatever he fancies wearing, however simple it may be. Right now, he's begun dabbling in embroidery, embellishing the hems and such of his pants, tops, and sashes.

Leatherworking - Due to boredom. When sewing seems too tedious and he's already eaten his most recent meal, Yuudai takes to leatherworking. Often using the pelts of animals that Qadir has caught, he creates all manner of useful and frivolous things, enjoying the fact it's a bit more akin to manual labor. Generally he doesn't really know what to do with his finished products, and so they are given freely as gifts.

Relationships
Qadir - Related to her a few generations back, Yuudai actually met her during training, and they quickly became friends. Due in equal parts to their ability to get along, the number of harrowing fights and adventures they've survived together, and their shared blood, Qadir and Yuudai are very much like siblings as much as they are best friends. Just about every crazy story (and bad decision) Yuudai has ever made leads back to Qadir.

House staff - He only has a handful, as he tends to do things himself out of sheer boredom. He has not taken to being "cared for" very gracefully lol, and his cabin-fever can make him boorish and stubborn.

War buddies - Other people he knew/fought with/trained from the Adelan military - both friends and rivals!

Lovers & the like - Yuudai is on the ace spectrum somewhere, but he makes for a very enthusiastic lover when it's on offer. As Qadir was often the one dragging him out to find some "fun", Yuudai has an impressive amount of experience - this fact tends to surprise people as Yuudai generally forgets sex is even a thing if someone isn't actively reminding him. His past life of transience as a knight made him reluctant to enter into any long-term relationships - it wasn't that he didn't care for people, but rather he felt it unfair to try and commit to or promise a future when he was very likely to be killed in the line of duty. Now that it seems that's no longer an issue, he thinks it might be quite nice to settle down and have a family (he'd like kids!) - of course now he has to deal with opportunists that see his noble title, however small, as a chance to increase their own standing through marriage. Frankly it's a bit more amusing than annoying, and Qadir comes up with some truly hilarious ideas to scare suitors away.
While Yuudai would say he doesn't have any real preference (and that is true re: sex/gender), Qadir will gleefully expose him as a "monsterfucker" any chance she gets. (This will always turn into an argument as Yuudai is firm that 'monster' is an offensive thing to call people, but he can't actually argue that he vastly prefers distinctly non-human lovers)

History
Yuudai's family has always been relatively involved with the military, as they are low-born and without much land with which to produce something to sell. Many of their sons have enlisted simply to feed the rest of the family. Yuudai was no different, and he's always been very proud of his family's history in the knighthood of Adela. He threw himself into training and ascended the ranks quickly thanks to his level head, loyalty, and hard work - not to mention a habit of surviving his battles. His life up to this point has been rather garden-variety knighthood, with many clan skirmishes and border patrols under his belt.
He had a bout of inactivity after taking a mace to the chest plate, requiring a lot of rest and healing sessions to survive it, and coming out on the other side with a handful of bent ribs and yet another scar. Unfortunately his second bad knock took him out of the running entirely, and he's spent the better part of a year undergoing treatment on his leg, though he will always have a limp. The only consolation is that Qadir was injured in the same battle, and required just as much care, so he at least had his best friend there to keep him company.
Thanks to his service and loyalty, he was granted a lesser noble title so he might live the rest of his life in relative peace and comfort. Unfortunately to Yuudai it's much like a prison sentence, and he has not adjusted well at all. However, he's far too grateful and polite to ever bring this up to those who 'promoted' him, and so he remains in his perpetual state of 'cabin fever'.

So very fascinating. So he had simply been cast from Grace, which is what Pyr would have assumed given what he'd heard thus far. Whether that was a fate better or worse than being truly Fallen...he could not say. He was too far removed from what he had once been, too long as he was now, to make any sort of accurate comparison.
No matter. More prevalent was the fact the father had chosen to leave, that they had chosen to hide the truth. It seemed quite possible that with Aya's powers now manifest, she was going to attract some manner of danger - angelic in nature, Pyr could only assume.

The chair rattled as Aya shoved from the table, Pyr instinctively soothing the ripple of power as it responded to her spiking emotions. He tilted his head as she spoke, watching as she seemed to try and shake free the very truth she had been told.
"It cannot? What a strange thing to say. Ah, is this perhaps a struggle in accepting a great shift in understanding? I suppose you have been fairly overburdened recently..."
Slowly, Pyr reached up to place a finger against his chin, blue eye still pinned to his distressed friend. How troublesome...he would like to help, but it was not as though it would do Aya any good to remove her memories of this encounter. What was done could not so easily be undone - the power was manifest, the bloom of her very soul, and he would not be the one to attempt to pluck it.

"Loretta, you seem to be under the impression - you and Samuel both - that Aya would be in danger should she come into the truth of herself. I should like to know what the plan is for this inevitability? What are the next steps?"
Despite the bluntness of his words, he was again genuinely asking rather than trying to censure Aya's mother. That there may not be a contingency plan in place had yet to even occur to him.

At the same time, for the sake of efficiency in what was a rather delicate situation, Pyr was again speaking directly to Aya's mind.
"What can I do to assist you in accepting your new reality? Which part stymies you so? If you require further clarifications or information, I would be glad to provide as much as I am able. All of this may be new to you now, but it has always been your truth."

Pyr listened just as intently as Aya likely did, though purely out of curiosity in his case. There were a number of reasons he could have come up with to explain her powers, as with all things there was rarely only one possibility. In this case, it was perhaps the most obvious answer if one remembered how mortals most often connected using their bodies, due to how they reproduced.
Still, even the most straightforward answer was incredibly interesting! Such a combination did not often produce a viable embryo, and there were a host of possible complications during and after pregnancy that could terminate a human child burdened with angelic blood. Angels were not, after all, meant for reproducing in this way - truly, it was more accurate to say they could not unless they had 'fallen' as this one had.

Cutting through the strained atmosphere with all the grace of one who literally did not realize it was there, Pyr's smooth monotone interrupted any further conversation between mother and daughter.
"A Nephilim then? Fascinating. You specifically seem to regard Samuel as a 'fallen angel' but not a 'demon', so I am curious to know if he lost his 'wings'? Did he still have his µӘ¿æ?"
The sound that came out of the demon's mouth was...impossible, in essence. Loretta might have heard something that sounded a bit like a dial-up tone, not that any in this realm would know what that was. Aya might have heard something more like notes, a wordless tune echoed in birdsong voices and the reverberating crack of glacial ice.

"Ah. I see that is not permitted. Hmm, perhaps...a 'halo'? Ah, very good. Yes, was he missing his 'wings' or 'halo'? It is possible he simply fell from Grace, which is different from being truly Fallen."

Pyr looked into his cup at the tea leaves curiously, eager to watch it steep once the water was done. Mortals truly had the most fascinating ways of consuming the nutrients they needed! Who ever conceived of putting dried leaves in hot water for a beverage?

He shifted his attention back to the ladies when he felt the distant hum of magic - ah, communicating with her dragon. He had been quite interested in observing more of this bond common in Adela, though dragons and warriors alike were more wary than the average person. Alas, maybe one day - perhaps even Aya's mother herself, should she ever see him as less than a threat.

If nothing else, the woman had a habit of asking him questions he did not anticipate. He blinked at her once, before choosing his words.
"As I do not know the truth, there was nothing for me to tell. I pointed out the nature of the ring, as I was intrigued by the intricacy of the spell, but I did not understand the nature of the power it held at bay until it was released."
That blue eye shifted to Aya then, as he continued to her directly.
"All that I know is that the power is angelic. I could guess a great many things about it, but I too would like to know the truth of this. Ah-"

He turned to Loretta again, having realized all the distractions of before did not allow them to finish something quite important in the interactions between mortals.
"We did not complete our exchange of greetings. I await your name and salutation."

Not that Pyr would have noticed or mentioned it anyway, but the literal dent in his skull from the beam was already mostly healed by the time Loretta asked after him.
"I am alright. Ah, one moment."
Standing there and holding the ceiling up was not the best use of his time, and so he once again exerted a bit of his power to return the beam to its proper place. Between one moment and the next, the ceiling was again whole, no plaster on the floor or dust in Pyr's hair - it was as if the mishap had never occurred at all.

With both the beam and Aya taken care of, thus freeing up both of his hands, Pyr turned and took the few long-legged steps necessary to reach the seat by the fire he had folded himself into earlier that evening. Picking it up carefully, he carried it to the table and set it down at one of the free sides, leaving the two other chairs open for the ladies of the household.

Once seated, hands again folded, he looked up at Loretta patiently.
"I believe you said it was time for tea?"

"Apology accepted. There was no lasting damage, in any case."
He watched Aya as was his way, noting the changes externally as he monitored the power settling within her. At this rate, she'd be acclimated sooner rather than later.

The threat leveled at him calmly had him turning toward Loretta, face impassive as ever.
"I'm sure you will try. I will endeavor not to give you reason to."
Her protective instincts were to be expected, and while they would likely be futile, he still appreciated the sentiment. Parental care was unfamiliar to him, but it had quickly become one of his favorite observational topics.
Besides, even though she would likely not believe him, he genuinely did not wish to harm anyone in this realm if he could help it.

Aya's declaration of friendship actually caused Pyr to blink twice at her. Rarely did mortals extend such a title to him! Of course, despite being incredibly pleased, his face and voice remained as flat as ever.
"I am honored. Do you require assistance?"
He extended a hand to his still floor-bound 'friend'. It would likely be preferable for her to sit at the table while her mother served tea and explained herself, after all.

CRACK

One of the ceiling beams gave out abruptly right above Pyr, the broken end crashing directly into the top of his head. For a moment it balanced there as plaster clattered to the floor.
"Ah."
The large beam wobbled, groaned, and slipped free - only to be caught easily with his other hand before it could potentially land on Aya. Blinking with eyelashes full of dust, Pyr glanced up at the ruined section of ceiling. Well, it had been quite awhile since the stable incident...

It truly was just a matter of time, all three of them only able to wait out the inevitable, with varying levels of discomfort. While the majority of his attention was still carefully monitoring Aya, his gaze remained on her mother for now. Her response was, once again, surprising to him.
"Oh? According to who?"
With his deadpan delivery it might have come across wrong, but he was asking genuinely. Mostly he simply wished to sate his curiosity, but it might also be nice to know if he should expect more sudden guests (well, Aya's mother was hardly a guest in her own home - unexpected entrances instead perhaps?).

Any response would have to wait, as Aya finally began to stir and pick herself up, careful in the way of one still in quite a bit of pain. Pyr watched her closely, feeling the waves of her power against his own beginning to recede, just as he knew they eventually would. He'd continue his vigil until she was entirely settled, whether that be hours or days from now - he did not mind the task.

Finally his attention was returned to himself, courtesy of Aya's question - reaching up, he touched the tacky surface of his face, fingers coming away coated in drying blood and the tar-like ichor that had run from his previously ruined eyes.
"Ah. The intensity of your power flare burned away the surface of my eyes for a moment. As I recall, mortals ordinarily do not enjoy the sight of blood, correct?"
On that note, he flicked his fingers and the mess disappeared entirely, leaving his pale cheeks clean once more and his visible eye clear.
"Is this better?"

The hissed cursing passed him by with ease but the other bit was of interest - she had expected potential demonic intervention? Now that was something to look into, for as far as he could tell the power roiling against his own as the pure burn of angelic essence. Clearly Aya's mother had intended to hide this, given the ring and her expectation of trouble, but he was quite interested to know why exactly that was.

Luckily he was more than capable of splitting his attentions.

"I know, and I am sorry I cannot do more to alleviate that fear. This power is yours, but you have not had the time to accommodate it. That pressure is the result of the power having to make space for itself - what was once neatly folded and compressed into a small thing has now expanded exponentially. It may feel like you cannot contain it, but know that I will not allow you to break. Remember when I explained how I came to enter this realm under my own power? If I can do that, please trust that I can handle this with ease - you will be alright. The only reason I do not take your pain away entirely is because any further magical intervention carries too much risk. I do not allow you to suffer on a whim, Aya. It will pass. Just breathe, let it settle, do not fight it. If it aids in your belief of what I say, then know the terms of my Contract do not allow me to lie to the denizens of this realm. It is not empty platitudes."
He continued the rhythmic stroking against the magic inside her so she might have something pleasant to focus on, despite the way it burned against his own essence.

Meanwhile, he blinked in actual surprise at the question. He hadn't expected her to ask something like that quite honestly. Though still with knife in hand, she seemed to have opted to turn her attention to helping her daughter directly rather than try to remove the perceived threat.
Pyr met her gaze calmly, the cut on his neck already sealed.
"Remain quiet. Do not attempt to touch her. Other than that, there is not much to be done but wait. I apologize for the distress I have caused you. My name is Pyr, it is a pleasure to meet you- ah, despite the circumstances. May I ask why you are expecting an attack? And possibly from demons at that?"

Pyr's lips pressed more tightly together as Aya pleaded, the words a barb to his heart. He did not wish to see her in pain, but some pain was inevitable now and he hated having to be the one to deny her relief. He could simply cut off the pain receptors of her mind of course, but in the state she was in there was no guarantee he could undo the change later. Everything about this situation was delicate, such that any wrong move could cause lasting damage. He was essentially trying to help an egg hold its shape - too much or too little force and the shell would crack.

Naturally, this was the moment for further complication to appear in the form of Aya's mother. Pyr hardly had a moment to lift his gaze to her, garish with the stain of blood and ichor he had yet to wipe away, before she was on him with impressive speed for a mortal. Hmm, had Aya not mentioned something about that...? Was she a warrior perhaps? That would certainly explain her deft wielding of the knife now sunk into his throat.

You see, Pyr did not register much as a threat in this world, and lacked the inherent reflexes of a creature concerned for its safety. While most people would have stepped back upon being shoved, even more so when faced with a knife, Pyr was essentially an immovable object. There was no outward reaction to the woman's physicality nor the knife wound slowly beading blood, Pyr simply blinking placidly down at her as she stood between him and Aya's curled form. It hadn't even broken his concentration on the task at hand, though he did decide to address Aya's mother directly in an attempt to allay her fears.

"Please, lower your voice. You are causing Aya pain at that volume. Unfortunately, I cannot stop - as she has removed the ring and its suppressive spell, I am now assisting her acclimation to the sudden manifestation of her power. Should I stop, the pain and discomfort she is experiencing would worsen threefold."
His monotone was very soft as he spoke to Loretta, while at the same time he sought to reply to Aya at the same time - naturally he could not use his mouth for two different conversations so he opted to communicate directly to her mind, just as gently as everything else.

"Aya, I'm afraid I cannot suppress your power again and stop your suffering. Doing so would harm you more, do you understand? Do not worry about your mother, all is well. Please focus on your power and where it lies at the core of you - you need to come to know its feel, and allow it to settle. The pain and discomfort you are feeling is going to fade as your body gets used to its true nature. Right now you are like a child kept in the dark stepping into sunlight for the first time - it hurts and blinds you, but soon enough you will be able to see the world in a new way."
He smoothed the ruffled edges of her power again, like stroking the puffed-up fur of a startled cat - he could do little else to soothe her through the transition.

Aya's distress only continued to grow, leaving Pyr a bit at a loss. There was not much he could think to do for her, his experiences with mortals still fairly limited thus far. He also did not entirely understand the reason for her heightened emotions - yes, clearly it was her latent powers, but what about that was so cause for this reaction? This was something he could not begin to guess at, and so his options were limited in terms of what support he might offer.

Sometimes it was simply best to let them express all that emotion before approaching - calmer minds were more receptive to communication usually.

Unfortunately since Aya was still very much NOT calm, she made a reckless decision (as mortals were terribly fond of doing, it worried Pyr quite a bit). The ring came off, and Pyr could hear the tenuous strings of the spell snap with the backlash of power as it was released. Now a piece of metal and stone and nothing more, it rolled away beneath the table and Pyr paid it no more attention.
After all, there were more pressing matters to attend to.

The flash of power was so bright and sudden he felt it lash against his eyes, the warmth of red blood and blue-black ichor a slow trail down his cheeks. The damage repaired itself but still the burning sensation remained, and in that moment Pyr recognized the taste of this magic. A language difficult to translate indeed...more-so a language he was barred from reading again.
"Ah. I see."

The power began to settle soon enough, like a spring that had been compressed finally releasing with vigorous energy, only to return to its resting shape.
Mortals in pain or great discomfort were not hard to spot, and so Pyr easily realized that Aya was perhaps struggling with the consequences of her actions. Towering straight and unmoved above her curled up form, entirely expressionless, he seemed so much the callous demon mortals often saw him as.
But Aya did not have to see, because she would instead experience something entirely different. He was rusty with the ages, and the magic itself was now abrasive against his own, but he gently cupped that swelling power and carefully folded it back into shape, smoothing down the ruffled edges. Trying to suppress the power completely was likely to cause further damage, so instead he simply...muffled it, like putting his hands over her ears in a too-loud room, dampening the stimuli. He could hold her thus until she began to acclimate on her own, slowly but surely.

Pyr watched as she paced, eye traveling back and forth along with her. This was body language he was almost certain he understood, and it meant she was quite unsettled. Strangely, it seemed to be due to learning of her latent abilities, whatever they might be. He couldn't fathom why that would spark anxiety, but clearly it had, so he attempted to pick his words with more care.

"I am quite sure. I do not understand your assertion that not being a mage discredits the truth - with such a powerful spell of suppression, you would be unable to use magic even if you knew how. Assuming the ring was placed on you when your powers were ready to properly manifest, there would have been no opportunity for you to use them."
He paused to think, his head slowly tilting to the other side as he assessed her pacing form.
"While it is possible for a dragon to place a spell or boon upon another, this is not that sort of magic. That ring's charm is quite specific, and is not something I've seen before in this realm. I imagine whatever it is keeping at bay is quite rare."

His gaze remained fixed on the ring, deep blue pupil expanding and contracting much like a cat's as he analyzed it from afar. What she said was not the truth, but it was no fault of her own - clearly her mother had lied to her about the ring's purpose. Or, perhaps, her mother had also been lied to...regardless, it was certainly no protective charm.
Quite intrigued, Pyr's head began to tilt to one side as was clearly a habit of his.

"Excuse me." With no further warning, his finger appeared over the ring - the movement had happened with such speed as to literally be blink-and-you-miss-it. His finger did not touch the ring, nor did it remain there for more than a moment before he withdrew his hand in his usual careful, measured pace.

"Quite unusual, in the sense I have yet to see a spell like this in this realm. It's quite complex - or rather, it was. The spell has eroded quite drastically, and will likely fail soon. It is not a protective charm, at least not in the expected sense - it is binding a power, keeping it enfolded and suppressed. Given that the ring is not that old, I can only assume that the degradation of the spell is due to the magnitude of the power it is keeping contained, rather than the slow wear of time."

Finally his gaze flicked up to her face, his pupil shrinking to that of a pinprick. No longer the metaphorical 'weight' of his attention, this time a humming pressure enfolded her - as before it lasted only a moment, broken when he blinked, electric blue eye returned to 'normal'.
"Fascinating. The power is certainly coming from you, but it is quite well hidden. Or perhaps it might be more accurate to say it is in a language difficult for me to translate. I don't suppose you know what of yourself is being held at bay?"

Pyr was greatly relieved (and showed exactly none of it, of course) to find that Aya seemed to be a mortal of strong nerves. She clearly was unsettled, and rightly so - but she was not lashing out in any way he might expect. Such reactions were anticipated, and quite natural in his opinion. Anyone who could grasp even the edges of the scope of what he was describing had plenty of reason to fear. Had he any machinations against this realm, the damage possible was immeasurable.

Luckily for all, he did indeed simply wish to 'sightsee'.

No longer concerned with scaring off his host, Pyr's implacable gaze again landed on her. He had finished his bread as well, and so folded his hands atop the table softly.
"I believe I am interpreting your tone as 'incredulous', correct? Perhaps there is no way I can explain that would be adequate, given the vast difference between us, but I will try. For ones such as myself, there are largely no entities that could summon me, in a purely practical sense. Assuming I opened my own pathway to take the burden off the summoner, it would still be incredibly difficult to form an anchor strong enough to bind me to their realm. It is most often that the Contract is used, because Contracts are incredibly stable magic, but what could be bartered and offered that would be worth such effort? Anything capable of summoning me likely has enough power to achieve whatever they might ask me to do quite on their own. And so I have never been summoned, and have never seen other realms. I simply grew...curious."

The glitter-flash of cut stone tugged his gaze down toward the ring on her finger, though he dutifully finished answering her questions before asking another of his own.
"I travel all over the realm, as there is much to see. The stable was simply another stop along my path. What is that ring? It hums an unusual spell."
Given that his single-minded focus hadn't shifted from said ring since he noticed it, it shouldn't be hard for Aya to understand to what he was referring. Magical items were common enough in this realm, but often the spells were simple things that he could understand at a glance. A ring on one's eldest child he might have anticipated having a protection charm imbued, but rather than repelling this spell was binding. A limitation...a suppressor perhaps?

Entirely unconscious of the fact he nearly offended his host, Pyr tracked her quest for food while absorbing everything she said. Every little bit of insight and information was shuffled away in the depths of his mind, like a crow collecting shiny things - much of it was inconsequential, some just pieces of a whole, while every so often something of true value was found.
But just like the crow, Pyr didn't much mind what value others might put on his collection - he was happy just adding to his horde.

Relocating to the table to partake in the snack Aya had cobbled together, Pyr took his seat as carefully as before.
"I see. Thank you for answering my question."
What he thought about the concept of 'impressing' guests, if he had any opinion at all, was impossible to tell - like staring at a wall and hoping for answers to materialize.
He watched patiently as she helped herself to some bread and jam, unsure if this was a 'wait to be served' situation or not - thus far he had not puzzled out how to tell when this would be the case. Slowly, in case he was indeed misreading the situation, Pyr began to prepare his own slice of bread and jam, simply copying what Aya had made for herself.
He had already learned his lesson against trying to guess how and what to eat - too many horrified mortals in the past to make that mistake again. The way he experienced food was certainly different from mortals, he just wasn't entirely sure to what degree.

Chewing mechanically, he tipped his head in her direction when she expressed a desire to ask him questions of her own. She was correct in theory at least - while 'fairness' had little to do with it, equivalent exchange was another matter. Nothing for free, after all - that was the way of his realm.
The question was not entirely unexpected, but it was a bit tricky to answer. The simplest response would be 'because he's strong enough' to do so, but it explained nothing of the mechanics. He took his time thinking, just as methodical as his chewing, before finally answering.
"You are correct - for most demons, they cannot pass into another realm without help. I can explain in more detail if you wish, but the simplified method is that an entity in the other realm calls out an invitation, establishes a Contract, and then opens the pathway to allow the demon to pass through. From there, the Contract is often used as the anchor so that the demon may remain manifested. However, for those demons with enough power, this method can be bypassed. Forcing your way into a realm is terribly destructive - I suppose you could think of it like blowing apart a wall instead of finding a door, to say nothing of being invited inside. Manifesting yourself without an anchor is likewise possible, but it consumes energy constantly and thus you will eventually run out and be forced from the realm."
Pausing a moment, Pyr blinked slowly at Aya. It was possible that being honest would scare her, which he did not wish to do. Lying to her was not an option, but he could simply stop there, and let her infer what she wished from his explanation. He let out a huff of a sigh and finally looked away from his host.
"If you are a demon with immense power, you force the realm itself into a Contract. To use my earlier analogy - I cut my own door, and invited myself inside."

He was enjoying his visual tour of the interior of Aya's home while she continued to verbally fret, but it took him a moment to realize that perhaps he was missing something in the interaction. He really did not have enough data to say for certain, but she was not the first mortal to worry over the apparent cleanliness of their living space upon having a guest.

Pondering this most recent curiosity, Pyr followed her invitation to sit and finally moved carefully from the doorway toward the proffered chair. The support beams holding up the ceiling overhead brushed against his hair, one catching him dully on the top of his head, as he passed beneath - unsurprising that the home had not really been built with someone as tall as him in mind.
Apparently no more bothered with hitting his head as anything else that had happened to him thus far, Pyr didn't react and instead concentrated on carefully taking his seat and then arranging his long legs in a way that did not stick them directly into the fire.

Hands folded on his lap, he finally turned to address Aya directly, in that somewhat ponderous way he always did things.
"Thank you. While I do not require sustenance, I have found that mortal cuisine is very intriguing. I will enjoy whatever you provide, but I understand food scarcity to be a problem and so if you would rather not waste it on me, I would not be offended."
His head tilted to one side again, a bit like a curious bird.
"I do have a question - is it customary for a host to worry over the state of their home when they have guests? I might assume that one's living space need only conform to their own wants, but perhaps I am mistaken?"

Pyr obediently followed along, either unaware or unbothered by her awkwardness in response to his...well, general state of being really. Since just about everyone reacted in a similarly discomfited way around him, he had accepted it as 'normal' behavior.

He waited at the bottom of the stairs while she went about the process of unlocking the door - another reminder that many in this realm could be thwarted with a simple physical deterrent - and simply took in the outside of the building while she warned him of the state of things within. Mortal dwellings came in so many variables it was astounding, and quite charming - it seemed more often than not the abodes were as unique as those living in them.

Once they were to go inside, he finally ascended the stairs, noting the one that creaked a protest under his weight - ah, that would explain the odd hop she did to avoid it. Closing the door carefully and quietly behind him, he remained stationed in the threshold while taking in what interior was available to be seen. As some households had 'rules and customs' that began the moment one entered, he opted to wait patiently for further instructions from his host.

Coming to a stop as she did, Pyr pulled his attention from their surroundings to refocus his gaze down on Aya's face. His only outward reaction to her offer was a slow blink, but internally he was quite pleased. He understood the offer to share a meal together to be a common overture in the process of 'getting to know one another' - indeed it was a common social pastime for just about every society he'd observed so far. Such an offer being extended to him was still a fairly rare occurrence, so he was eager to agree despite outward appearances.

"I am quite honored to receive an invitation to your home, and accept it gladly. I would like to be a good house guest, so please do not hesitate to alert me of any rules or customs I ought to observe and follow."

Pyr continued to follow Aya as she answered his questions, not particularly bothered with their destination if there was one. Instead he took the opportunity, as always, to continue his observations, watching the various people and shops they passed by.
He was somewhat surprised that she had assumed he meant magical implements to keep the flock grounded, and wondered how much that said about the nature of this place and the people in it.
Or perhaps she was simply limited by the scope of the magic she had seen so far, and thus other options didn't even occur to her.

The second answer did expand upon concepts he was still getting the shape of - mainly that it was perhaps more complicated than it initially seemed. Domestication in particular was strange and fascinating - it seemed that in place of the magic Pyr was more familiar with, the people of the realm were willing to bend nature to their will by exploiting how it operated, and being willing to spend generations to reach their end goal. Not at all efficient, but very tenacious and fairly clever.

"I do not understand your apology. My question on the atrium was not that I expected the flighted ones to be kept grounded - rather that the atrium was built as a physical object, instead of a permanent spell field. If it were magical, it could be much larger, among other benefits. I wondered if this was perhaps beyond the magical applications available to you currently in this world. I suppose this is a similar quandary to the domesticated beasts - that the ability to create Contracts, or these 'bonds', is perhaps limited to too small a user group. Solutions are made with the knowledge available, after all. Thank you for answering my questions, Aya."