A Soldier's Disposition

Zechs held his hands behind his back, standing upright in a formal position.

"Right! Her name is Finvarre, I was on a patrol through the Vasure Plains when I spotted her, she helped me fend off an ambush on our encampment with incredible powers, she says she is not from Ae'Ire, so I thought I would take her here, knowing you could give her answers and find out more about her."

After he had summarized his meeting with Finvarre, he broke his stance and stepped back a ways.

As Zechs stepped back, my body went into its instinct. Militarily, I clasped my hand in a fist and slammed it over my heart, listening to the loud crash as armor hit armor. My back was erect, and I didn't waver as I stood stock-still.

"Sergeant Major Finvarre, from the Kingdom of Aion. Company Leader Zechs Renaurd found and held me, Sir!"

Barking the words, I remained statuesque until commanded otherwise.

It really is like home...

Xixas smiled, and gestured for the woman to relax. "Ms. Finvarre". Xixas assumed his company was a woman due to her figure, and well. Her voice. "We're not... So militant. Please, relax. And would you both mind taking a seat? Have some tea, the water is on the table right in between those seats". Xixas let his hand show them a couple of throne chairs, and he took a seat in his own across the room.

"Thank you, sir, but no tea for me."

Zechs took his seat politely, and poured tea into the cup and set it by Finvarre's chair, and set the tea pot down, he hadn't relaxed, he sat there with his cold attitude, his awareness on full alert.

"So, Finvarre, how did you get here, in Ae'Ire, anyway?

I stared down at the glass, and was surprised to find myself in slight want of the beverage. My eyes lit up Orange once more as I thought over Zechs' question, curious in what he truly meant.

"I died."

Just realizing that I was looking at the ceiling, I returned my gaze to stare Zechs in the eye- then his leader. Crossing the room quietly, I stood next to the chair that was designated for me- uncomfortable with the thought of sitting in such a place.

How bereft of manners I seem to be...