"Well, if there's anyone I hate making wait more than Ryder, it's Alexandria... We best get a move on, especially if her dad's gonna be around." Lyric noted, eyes quickly widening before looking to the Miscreant. "Speaking of which! Princess Alexandria, King Altar. Say it, right now."

Kyoya stood in place, expression offering no more than a blank stare.

"...Huh?"

"Say their names, so you don't forget! If you slip up, I'm the one who brought you in! That means I'll get half the lecture..." Upon her explanation, the boy felt a grin make its way to him.

"Right, I'll be sure to mess up the first time around."

"Hey! You're lucky we're pretty much on their doorstep, or I'd let my Burst do the talking!"

The boy drew a bit of a blank. The term, "Burst," wasn't one that he could connect to much, let alone in the context she'd referenced.

"Your Burst? You mean, like, your Magic, right?" He scratched his head

"You can't be serious."

"I'm completely serious."

"Good grief... If I had a hundred Chell for every time I got reminded you never get out, I'd be Arch-Duchess of Altaire by now."

"That doesn't answer anything."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I can't believe I'm explaining this to someone your age, but I guess your being from Teleo sorta explains it; they hate conforming to standardized measurements and whatever."

Lyric sighed, continuing. "A Burst is really just another term for your Magic, so you're not totally wrong -- but, the term 'Magic' doesn't account for abilities that don't necessarily involve it. That's why 'Burst' was adopted. Think of it as a more general scope of any Reclaimer's power, not limited to magical powers. Physical abilities and all that get roped in since it's a broader scope."

It came as a bit of a surprise that he'd never even heard the term during his stay at the shrine, but at the same time, the Miscreant at least figured their circumstances weren't the most modernized, either. He had heard of these "Reclaimers" before, though. It was usually mentioned in any number of Reika's stories, or a recount of Guran's earlier days, as he'd considered himself one before committing to the shrine grounds.

He was told that any user of abilities beyond natural human function were considered Reclaimers, as they "Reclaimed" what Demons took, were taking, and will take from the world. Of course, not much was ever eluded to beyond that, as they "got out" arguably even less than he did -- but, the information proved to save him from another smart remark in the end, so there was no room to complain.

"Glad that's ironed out... Was that something else that would've made me look like an idiot in front of royalty?" Asked a relieved Miscreant.

"One-hundred percent. But hey, don't sweat the details -- if I can dig you out of anything, I'll give it my best shot... It's just, meeting Alexandria always stresses me out, a little. Nothing serious."

"So long as you know them, I'm sure we'll be fine. And, you were right about that whole doorstep thing, too. I didn't stop to think about how all this just happened in their backyard-"

The boy stopped, thinking back to their encounter with the Demon. "Wait, yeah, if this happened in their backyard, why didn't anybody come out to help!? There was a DEMON, isn't that a big deal!?"

Lyric simply gave a shrug.

"Didn't look like you needed any help. Pretty sure I saw a few faces watching from the balcony while you were fighting, but I doubt you'd have noticed. Delivering an ass-kicking like that takes focus."

Kyoya groaned in reply.

"How've you nailed down turning insults into compliments so fast?"

"It's one of my great many specialties. We'll talk more about that later, though. 'Till then, let's get this royal audience on the road. I can't say I'm not excited to see what Alexa's gonna think of the new Glory."

There it was again. "The Glory." Every time, it sent that familiar jolt of stinging recollection through his head, though this one in particular never actually got anywhere. The most he was able to put together was that it, along with the eight other titles, were connected in some way or another. With Lyric's earlier mention of something regarding "the Hope," it seemed clue enough to him that this was the case.

The duo edged a corner of the courtyard that led to a grand entrance, fashioned of an even finer, more supple granite walkway, leading straight to enormous, gold-plated wooden doors. Framing those doors was the front of Altaire's castle, such an insurmountable fortress easily quadrupling the entire property of the shrine grounds, and then some. Until then, his home away from home had been the most beautiful establishment he'd ever seen.

Just as his introduction to the kingdom, the castle shattered that record.

All of that seemed to distract him from another pair of figures standing in front of those doors. "That'd be our hosts. King Altar and Princess Alexandria of Altaire... Mind your manners." Lyric whispered.

Kyoya didn't have long to really look as they approached, but he managed.

King Altar appeared about as kingly as the boy could have imagined, standing well above him at just under seven feet tall, yet still attaining admirable bulk for his apparent age, which Kyoya assumed was within the late-sixties range. His hair was long and silvery, with an exceptionally groomed beard just as long laying on a sharp, wizened face. Eyes a stormy grey managed to still seem content, a smile sent Lyric's way offering a surprising comfort.

He adorned a trademark sterling white king's cloak, accessorized with dark navy fur on the shoulders and hemline. He also wore a pair of golden gauntlets extending from the cloak's sleeves, and several silver rings on either hand. His shoes were steel greaves of a similar silver hue to his hair, meaning that even he knew his way around a scuffle or two.

Standing to his right, excitedly waving to Lyric, was Alexandria. She was very slightly shorter than either of the pair, at just shy of five-eight, though wearing the same greaves as her father made up for almost three inches. She was reasonably built, framework only slightly less toned than Lyric's suggesting similarly acute physical ability. Sharp eyes and rolling hair of identical color to her father's was more than enough to prove relations, though her hair was considerably thicker, set in a fishtail braid down to her mid-back.

Her outfit was remarkably similar to Lyric's, with the only real difference in her attire being gold highlights on the vest, tee, and skirt, alongside gold-studded steel gauntlets on either arm, and a consistent trend of deep red colors differentiating either girl's clothing. She didn't look any older than neither the Seraph nor the Miscreant, Kyoya counting his blessings for such a coincidence as his partner's being buddy-buddy with royalty.

Lyric took to a light jog, meeting the Princess in yet another of the gal's wondrous handshakes. They first knocked the sides of either foot together two times, following with a half-spin and repeating the previous action with their heels. After that, they spun back to face one another, and finished with mutual curtsy.

Even King Altar seemed to enjoy the girls' exchange, as his smile soon developed into a laugh as Kyoya caught up to the Seraph.

"It's been too long, miss Lyric! How have you been?" Alexandria spoke with a voice too tender to be of this world, yet still testifying to a regal dominance. She cupped Lyric's hand, shaking it politely before letting go. "My father and I were so very excited when miss Allison informed us of your pending visit!"

"It hasn't been that long, don't worry." The gal giggled in reply, a smile toward the King preluding her grabbing Kyoya's shoulder and bringing the pair to a kneel. "And, your highness."

Altar chuckled and crouched down to them both, lifting them back up to stand at full height.

"Please, miss Seraphim, spare me the formality. One as close to the family as you needn't fret over that." He, too, spoke much less sharply than Kyoya would have imagined, radiating a feeling of age and experience. Altar, too, was soft-spoken, though not so much as to deny the reality that he was of the most decorated individuals in all of Takera.

"I understand, sir, but the practice makes it less difficult to remember when my audience is royalty less forgiving than yourself." Lyric's sass may not have known bounds, but it certainly knew restraint. Even then, the gal couldn't seem to keep from at least a little sneaking in.

It wasn't long before the King's eyes landed upon Kyoya, after which the Seraph gave him a bit of breathing room. "That would be who I'm here to talk about. Any time for us to come in and chat a little while?"

"Absolutely, please do come in!" Alexandria lit up, practically jumping out of her greaves. "Father, I'll prepare tea. Do you think you could show them to the Pinnacle?"

"Yes, yes. Hurry and go, or the pot you set out earlier will be too hot for too long." Altar nodded to her request, the Princess's eyes widening at his remark.

"You're right! Lyric and company, I'll meet you in a moment!"

With that, she was off behind those gigantic doors.

A strangeness soon enveloped the atmosphere.

"I suppose your bringing this boy here means that you've found some success in your ventures... Would that be what brought you here?" Altar's inquiry was laced with a curious, but almost somber coat. He didn't seem nearly as excited as Lyric had to have learned about the boy.

"That's right... No doubt about it. I was hoping the four of us could discuss exactly what we need to be doing from this point. Even finding him in the first place was completely by accident, so it's all pointing toward Fate's dysfunction being more than what we thought."

After reviewing her response, the King nodded with closed eyes before opening them and glancing back to Kyoya, briefly meeting his. "You're awfully quiet. Are you alright?"

Suffice to say, the boy's tongue was tied. It took a moment or two of collecting his wits before he managed to say anything.

"Yes, sir. This is just the first time I've ever actually met a King, and on such casual terms... It takes some getting used to." The Miscreant's explanation garnered another smile from Altar, who followed up.

"Then, please, shed your nerves. Any friend to miss Seraphim is a friend to Altaire, not to mention such a show as the one you performed in our courtyard earlier today. King Altar Albion, pleased to be of acquaintance."

The King extended a hand, Kyoya forcing away his indecision and meeting him in a much less extravagant, but completely normal and entirely satisfactory handshake.

"Kyoya Miskrit. It's an honor, sir." The man's grip was firm, but thankfully not nearly as herculean as he'd imagined it would be. In fact, it felt as nothing more than what one would feel from a fatherly handshake.

"With that settled, I don't see any reason to prolong the inevitable. Please, come with me." He turned to open the door, and looked back over his shoulder after doing so. "If this truly is what you've been seeking, miss Seraphim, we'll have..."

An uncertain pause preluded his continuation. "...Very, very much to discuss."