Never Cry Dragon ~ FIN

And a rude fire emblem awakening it was. Kyverian had fully anticipated on the Madame to be on the same early morning routine as him, given she had gone to sleep far earlier than he had. Soon enough, he had entered the tavern, making his way upstairs with the gaffer's recommendation of eggs and toast, with a side of bacon. The door is soon touched with his right shoulder as he pushes his way inside.

"Madame, I have brought you-" The sight of not the Madame, but some sort of dragon creature in the shape of a Human had abruptly ended his sentence. His eyes rapidly blink, unable to process the sight of what he was bearing witness to. Soon enough, he backs on out, closing the door silently behind him for but five seconds. He soon re-opens the door again, to see if what he had just witnessed was a product of something he had consumed prior to his arrival.

"Ah, it appears I haven't gone insane." Soon enough, Kyverian keeps the tray in one hand, the other slowly moving for the bronze sword by his side. His cautious approach was anything but reckless, his narrowed gaze trying to ascertain just who it was that laid in the blanket while wrapped in wings. 

Just when it seemed as if Kyverian was going to run the bronze sword straight into @madame 's stomach, her voice was all that he needed to know that his action would have had dire consequences for himself. The sword is soon gently set against the wall, both hands now held underneath the tray as the captain gradually and casually, offers the breakfast that was intended for her. "It's time to rise and shine. I intended to show my sincerity from yesterday. So... Here." The tray is handed over as he maintains eye contact.

Never did his eyes drift anywhere but her face, a fact that might seem peculiar to some. But for Kyverian, concentration was key to conversations. He didn't want to point out the wings, nor the scales. Nor the shift of her scales from blue to green. One could readily see that he was trying, at least, to mind some of his words. But as he often does, Kyverian cannot help but blatantly obvious.

"You're clad in scales, wings, and your talons are pointed dangerously in my vicinity." A fact that has him raise a hand for her to lower the forelimbs away from his body. The talons looked capable of piercing his armor, a scenario he'd rather avoid when it came to dealing with the strange and unusual. "This... Answers many questions that I have but... You could explain."

Soon enough, whether she had taken the breakfast tray or not, Kyverian moves over towards the door, closing it shut and making sure it was locked. He didn't want a repeat of what just happened, only for someone else to mis-read the situation, or worse. Kyverian soon returns back to the Madame, awaiting an explanation for what he was seeing, rather than going off of assumptions.

The The Madame was kind enough to put on some clothes, by the time he had returned to the conversation at hand. The sword is taken from its resting spot to put it back in the sheathe, his attention now wholefully upon the Madame without any worry of having to mention her changed form. The sight was burned into his memory, but the captain was now asked a question that demanded an answer. And an answer she'd soon receive, after his thoughts were aligned to speak what he wanted to say.

"And just who do you expect me to share your secret with?" His gaze narrows, both arms crossed in front of his chest. His back is planted firmly against the wall, both eyes upon the Madame as he continues his reply, "I rarely associate with people of superior rank, as well as those of equal and lesser status. But, since you're privy of secrets, it's only fair I share mine." A deep breath is taken, as Kyverian feels himself about to speak more than what he'd usually do. But, for the sake of secrets being shared, he felt it best to do so. The helmet on his head is removed, a sense of vulnerability overcoming him as Kyverian stares at the black plates and purple plume.

"Nine years ago, I was not a soldier... But a nobleman's son. We were not rich, but we were not poor either, holding just enough wealth to make us a cut above your average merchant. In terms of nobility status, we were at the bottom wrung, as we were made nobility since my great grand father's discovery of a type of berry that makes the most excellent of wine. We made an extensive fortune, but all that came undone by my father's greed."

Both eyes are narrowed upon the helmet, hands tensed against the metal as if he was crushing a skull. But he soon relents, continuing the story as best as he is able.

"After going into debt, we lived in the Windmire slums, where one of my father's former associates turned knight had taken pity on us. He took me in as his own son and spared them the trouble of raising me any further. I have not looked back since then."

The helmet is soon applied to his head, keeping it strapped as it were before his gaze sharply turns back to the Madame.

"Few know of my origins, Madame. Consider your secret safe, as you keep mine."

Although of poor origins, Kyverian was and still very well a Nohrian. There may come a day when the two appear on opposite sides of the fence. But until such a day arrived, Kyverian was, for all intent and purposes, a confidant for The Madame to trust. Even after she gave her name, Kyverian kept his brave face, before eventually, it melts away. Trust, confidence, and shared secrets. All of them were suppose to be the recipe for a friend.

A fact that gradually edges out the corner of his lips, curving itself until it forms a small crescent. For once in what must have felt like ancient times, Kyverian had smiled. "Thank you." He spoke up, soft and uncharacteristically friendly. A heavy burden felt like it had just removed itself from his chest, Kyverian's shoulders genuinely droop. But, the moment of relaxing is cut short, once he remembers his duty. As if by some terrible magic or curse, Kyverian stiffens right up, his smile gone faster than it had emerged.

"I accept my role as your confidant."

He soon kneels, keeping his head bowed as one arm is crossed in front of him.

A sense of familiarity was a new, but welcomed experience. Few held Kyverian's trust, if one could say he even had that much. To become a confidant of the The Madame meant that there was going to be more to know of the woman. But of course, Kyverian eventually rises up, the soft smile now on his face instead of the usual stoicism. "Of course..." He spoke up, eyes closed as his hands are placed behind his back. Kyverian's posture straightens, allowing Fierre to shift appearances without his prying eyes.

"This friendship should last a while. You're not exactly against Nohr, nor are you my enemy." But, as do all thing so, the smile fades. But, at least he wasn't scowling. "However, I do not believe I should mention what will happen, should you ever do decide to side against Nohr. But, make no mistake: I will not reveal you to anyone, regardless of your goals and or activities. That much should be said, at least." Manaketes already have it difficult enough, there was no point in making life all the more difficult for her than it already is.

"I do not share secrets." He spoke in reply to her request for discretion. "You, I do not mind... But, don't expect me to converse with others so readily." Even if there were others that knew of Madame's true name and nature, Kyverian simply wasn't a very friendly. But, he'd at least give it a try, even if all possibilities of said bonding was bound to fall flat. "But... I suppose I could try."

There was going to be a time when Fierre was going to have to choose her sides, when her friends were in danger. The implication alone was enough to have him somewhat guarded, his stoicism returning in gradual time. "Ah, of course." His hand is raised dismissively to banish the thought from his head, before he got in-depth with his assumptions. "So long as you do not wander where you should not, your life should be very well left alone. usually... I cannot vouch for the less than reputable among the Nohrian army."

There were still many individuals that did not live up to the expected, romantized version of Nohr. Nor did they try to, at the very least. But the mercenaries were going to pick sides, as were the people. Many battles were going to be fought, with no visible end in sight. "So long as you yourself do not side against Nohr, few will ever bat an eye in your direction. Some will... But, not many." The talk of age does have him confused, as Kyverian's facial expression twists and contorts itself to reflect that. As ever, The Madame is reminded of the other side of stoicism.

"Too old? Just how 'old' are you?" His eyes glance down to her feet to the top of her head, yet there hardly seemed to be a single hint to her age, other than being roughly within the same physical age as himself. He soon slowly squints in suspicion, placing a palm underneath his chin.

Kyverian attentively listens to The Madame and her explanation. Though, the lack of an actual answer that satisfied his curiosity was heavily apparent. His eye lids lowered, staring with a flat, somewhat annoyed expression. "Honestly, I don't know why I bothered asking..." His exasperation is fully expressed with a palm to his own face. But, the Manaketes were ancient creatures, that much, Fierre had explained. But unlike Humans, they could live for an awfully long time, a fact that eventually catches his attention.

"Ah... l suppose there are drawbacks to living so long. But, there are Manaketes as old as you, correct? You cannot possibly be the only one that's ancient, by our standards." The comment of watching people grow old and die soon has him shrug, completely understanding of the whim's of fate and the Human lifespan. "It's better that way, that Humans don't live for long. We'd never see the end of many villains, if we could." He soon takes a seat at the table, across from Fierre.

"What of your current friends? Preferably, the friends you've made here..." Kyverian taps the table with his index finger, curiosity bidding him to speak, "Here in Nohr." Unfortunately, he didn't seem to have any interest in Hoshido-based friendships.