"Introductions," Guariel repeated, but after this was silent for a time. It gave no indication that there would be words to follow for an insurmountable time. That veiled face was so blank, yet one could sense the weight of memories upon it. Finally, however, the four-winged figure commented, "No. I shall do so myself." Coincidentally -or perhaps it wasn't?- the princess walked it at that moment. With a few long steps the angel was walking in front of the mechanical creature, those still following the progression of the walk for the throne.

It seemed, however, their princess was not strung with dignity. It was hard to see the disappointment, or perhaps none was there, but one could imagine a noble thing like Guariel being so. Instead, it waited patiently, quietly keeping side now with Phoenix. It seemed silence was a mask well-worn. Finally, however, the angel seemed to grow impatient and so stepped forward even as she remained standing. Unlike with the demons, where it simply bowed, now it dropped to a knee, albeit briefly, and rose again. The movement made its wispy gown flow and blossom in a spectacular view, yet never did that veil move to reveal any more of its face.

"My Lady," he said in that even, enigmatic tone, "It's a pleasure to finally see your smiling face." Was it? There was no pleasure to be detected within the pale angel. Those lips curled in a sneer, or a smile, for a split second, and then vanished. "If you ever need to call upon a faithful servant, I am Guariel." And then the angel was stepping away, seeming to look for a dismissal, seeming to feel uncomfortable in the presence of a peaceful entity. This was one who needed no war to be whole; this was an angel of unity and love, of laughter and light. It made Guariel not envious, but for once, that old killing ache in its hand was gone, and just like how having the sword taken away felt, it was uncomfortable. Vulnerable.