Ten Houses

"It's finally the day!" Evelyn chimes in a high tone and a quick breath, fidgeting with the clasp of Tia's cloak.

The Minx crest is carefully gilded onto it's surface, one of Evelyn's many commissions. Allen stands in an awkward silence to the side, regret never leaving his stern expression. The silence between them had begun to weigh on Tia. Never before had her father gone this silent for this long, no matter how angry Tia might have been. She had been too preoccupied with training but mostly, she was unsure how to bridge the gap.

"Now, you still have another week left in the capital," Evelyn reminds her, Tia's eyes following the carriage as it circles the courtyard, "But today is still extremely important—a day every Accian prepares for diligently."

"What are assessments exactly?" Tia asks, Evelyn falling silent as she considers her explanation.

"Today your magical, physical and martial abilities will be tested and observed," Evelyn expounds precisely, "Scholars and strategists hired by the crown will pour over the results and determine your division placement, your unit-mates and most of your training schedule."

"More training?" Tia groans, exasperated.

"Yes," Evelyn chuckles, "The next two years of your life will consist of training, drills and travel." 

"Years??" Tia exclaims, her eyebrows shooting up as the carriage slows in front of them.

Tia's eyes drift to her father, the severity of their impending separation striking her, but he cant meet her gaze. They file into the carriage while Tia digests the implications.

"All of that isn't the focus today," Evelyn states curtly as the carriage lurches forward, "Today's assessment is extremely important," she emphasizes again, "The very expectations placed upon you as a recruit are determined by your performance."

Tia swallows the lump in her throat listening to Evelyn. Allen looks as if he has something to add, looking between the two of them with an open mouth, but his shoulders drop and he leers out the window again.

"All of the noble families will be present as well," Evelyn continues, "The assessments in the capital often attract high profile observers. They enjoy keeping tabs on promising new recruits as well as measuring the power balance between the Ten Houses."

"Power balance?" Tia questions attentively.

This draws Allen's attention back to the two of them, monitoring the course of the conversation carefully.

"The Ten Houses," Evelyn enunciates proudly, "Are granted lands and power by the royal family and all other nobility falls under the influence of one of these Houses. The lesser nobility are granted lands and titles by us and govern those territories under our guidance or in our stead," Tia seems dizzied at the concept, taking to silent consideration.

"And there is some kind of competition between us?" Tia questions, a bit tentative.

"Yes," Evelyn answers with a quick smile, satisfied with Tia's comprehension, "While we are of the same kingdom now, our ancestors were constantly competing and even warring over lands, power and influence. The valley in particular has always been extremely fertile, blessed by Oril herself!" Evelyn comments before refocusing, "The king's ancestor reunited us under one nation more than two hundred years ago. However..." Evelyn presses her lips together as she pauses, "It is still in our nature to compete and scheme for the king's favor. It is important that we push each other to remain strong and wise—to show we still deserve our position!" Allen poorly stifles a scoff listening to her validation of Accian politics and she squints at him

"So today they'll be judging you and dad... by my performance?" Tia questions anxiously but her mind also drifts to the night of her introduction. Much of the hostility from the other heirs seems less personal in retrospect.

"Well, all those under our House will be representing the Minx name," Evelyn explains and Tia releases a sigh, "But as the sole heir your performance is still extremely important, yes. Your failure means opportunity for the other Houses," Allen is scowling at his mother by the end of her explanation.

"Tia," Allen cuts in with gentle tone, surprising Evelyn and Tia, "Your first priority today should be your own well-being. You are your own person before you are a Minx or a house heir. However you perform, your grandmother and I can handle the rest." Evelyn gives a sharp sigh but, upon glancing at her anxious grandchild, her anger melts away.

"Allen is right," Evelyn states begrudgingly, almost dejected. Allen blinks and eyes his mother with exaggerated disbelief.

"Well," Allen teases, "I never thought I'd hear those words again!"

Tia finds herself laughing and a smile graces Allen's face for the first time in days. The carriage jerks to a stop and a man announces their arrival. They all take a deep breath, check they are presentable and exit the carriage.

The colosseum is packed, adding to Tia's buzzing nerves. Despite this, she is rather comfortable in her athletic attire. Tia could see her family sitting in one of ten balconies overlooking the arena, situated around one larger suite for the royal family.

Tia smiles and says hello to other recruits but receives only plastic smiles or blatant trepidation. She did at least enjoy the anonymity she never realized she would come to miss.

Most of the others teens seem familiar with each other and Tia feels appraising eyes on her as they whisper, attempting to identify her quietly but overlooking the sensitivity of her feline ears. It seems there were plenty here who did not attend her introduction or perhaps didn't recognize her without the full minx form or elaborate gown. Tia exposes only her ears and yellow markings today, for the sake of practicality. Those around Tia clot into small groups but give her a wide berth.

'You seem relieved,' Duff comments and Tia's face falls into a pleasant smile.

'It's the first time since I stepped off of that boat that I've felt like a regular person,' Tia explains. Duff hums in agreement but otherwise remains silent, seeming fairly distracted today as he peers over the crowded colosseum.

Tia scans the floor of the arena herself. A meager raised platform waits in the center and a mysterious orb sits to one side with markings all around it. Directly off stage a number of containers are lain about, stuffed with various odd plants, minerals and preserved animal remains. This leads to a set of three obstacle courses, one terrestrial, one aquatic and the last aerial, followed by racks with an assortment of weapons.

Two different stretches of the arena lay beyond this, one possessing an archery range with straw men at the end and the other a field marked with white lines to indicating its intended boundaries. The very last section contains a maze of some sort with various traps throughout. All of these are spread out sequentially around the center stage and a set of lanes wrap along the walls of the arena.

Tia also heard from her grandmother that, for those who applied, there is a written test to assess their knowledge and any of those that wish to be healers are tested in the town below, treating commoners' injuries and ailments. Tia turns her eyes up to the royal family's seating. A large platform protrudes out, lavishly furnished and catered to by servants. Tia couldn't see the king well but he sits alone until another man emerges and stands to his side. She quickly recognizes him as Ghislaine. Tia is surprised to not see Aldric or Abigail present.

"Look, sire!" Ghislaine addresses Ambrose, stepping forward from the back of the balcony. Ghislaine points to the rim of the colosseum opposite to them. Ambrose squints, his eyes narrowing onto a raven perched there as it peers down into the collection of teenagers.

"Is that...?" Ambrose questions, sounding almost conciliatory, and Ghislaine nods in confirmation.

Ambrose rises to his feet, stepping swiftly to the railing and observing the creature more closely. The raven turns its face to him in response, regarding Ambrose with a beady eye. Ambrose rushes to shift his gaze down, peering at the children below, but isn't quick enough. The raven studies him cautiously, hopping from one side to the other. When he seems certain all eyes have been averted, Duff shrinks down into the form of a mouse and skitters down into the arena. Ambrose looks again, seeing the black puff of Duff's fur disappear down the wall and out of sight.

"Damn!" Ambrose growls, fisted hands shaking on the railing.

"We could never catch him, sire," Ghislaine reassures him, "But..." he gestures to the crowd, "Now we can be certain she is here!" Ambrose hums once, scanning those below before regaining his composure.

"So, she is only a child..." Ambrose mutters, settling back into his seat.

A man steps onto the platform below. Swirling teal markings race across his neck and his clothing bears similarly tinted accents. When he speaks, his voice grows unnaturally loud, reaching to every part of the colosseum.

"Welcome, Lords and Ladies, to our annual assessments! My name is Felix," he announces with a wink, "And I'm honored to be guiding our beloved children as they begin their journey towards service!" he speaks charismatically before bowing carefully towards the royal box, "It will be his majesty's honor to select the first House!" The colosseum hushes all at once as Ambrose prolongs the suspense, looking over the crowd in contemplation.

"House Stahlmann!" Ambrose announces, sending the crowd into applause as his voice echoes throughout the arena. Those of house Stahlmann around Tia begin to rise and make their way down the stairs. Tia watches as they go, unable to recognize any peer aside from Andrea. Then, she spots Albert seeming to send off one of those descending.

"Albert!" Tia calls and waves to him.

Albert jumps and peeks in her direction, surprised any would call out to him here. Tia is grateful to see familiarity in his eyes as a mild smile pulls into place. She rises and approaches him.

"Mind if I sit with you?" Tia questions, trying to seem cheery but uncertainty still clings to her.

"U-um, yes, by all means!" Albert stutters and she plops beside him with a relieved but exuberant sigh. Her casual nature still surprises him.

"I'm surprised to see you here!" Tia breathes, astonishment marking her voice, "I thought you must've been older than me to be a tutor!" This seems to garner some embarrassment but he laughs.

"No, it's my year as well," Albert admits in a plucky tone, "But now I understand why her Grace was so urgent about your lessons!" Tia's face is grim as she nods, lips pressed together.

"Yeah, dad didn't even tell me about all of this himself," Tia explains, retaining a tinge of aggravation, "I found out on my own." 

"Really?" Albert gapes, "In my readings, his Grace seemed to have such a keen mind..."

"My dad?" Tia chortles, her voice dropping in amusement, "A keen comedian maybe... or actually no, his jokes are pretty bad."

"Comedian?" Albert coughs and looks to Allen in his box, austere eyes appraising those lining up below. Tia blinks at Albert's wide eyed glance as he stammers, "I-I don't think I can even imagine that...!"

"I'm starting to feel like I don't even know him," Tia frowns as she mutters and stares at her father, his expression alien to her.

"I only know about his military career," Albert peeps, trying to assuage her uncertainty, "My friend though, she's always admired him! She been needling me to… uh..." Albert trails off, seeming to rethink whether the course of the conversation was still appropriate.

"To...?" Tia draws out the word and elbows him lightly, grinning at his surprise, "Relax, Albert," Tia insists with a laugh, "You gotta stop acting like I'm gonna bite your head off at any moment!" Albert's shoulders drop as he finally relaxes, seemingly put at ease by her teasing, "If she's a fan of his, I'm sure my dad would get a kick out of meeting her!" Tia continues and a smirk tugs at her lips, having already guessed at his finished sentence. Albert grins authentically for the first time and laughs with her.

"Thank you for your patience," Felix calls out, grabbing both of their attention again, "We'll be starting today with Lady Andrea Stahlmann herself, daughter of Duke Gunther Stahlmann! What form do you have Lady Andrea?"

Andrea oozes pride as he speaks and is quick to reveal her form when prompted. As she does, Felix gestures and a larger illusion mimicking Andrea hovers over their heads for all to see. A brilliant silver sheen overtakes her body, every inch of her seeming to convert into metal down to her hair and the whites of her eyes. Once her transformation is complete, Andrea flexes and an array of metal blades emerge across her body at both her various joints and from her hands.

"Martor's Body and Blade!" Andrea brags readily.

"What magic is that?" Tia questions Albert, both of them keeping their eyes on her.

"Martor is the aspect of metal," Albert answers naturally, "From what I've heard, Andrea manifests aluminum. She is able to turn any or all parts of her body into aluminum as well as generate blades of the same from various locations."

As Albert explains, Andrea's eyes catch on Tia and her eyes narrow before continuing forward. They watch as she approaches the mysterious orb and hovers her hands over. There is no reaction.

"That device measure one's magic potential," Albert notes before Tia can ask, "Outside of racial magic, that is. Mages aren't very common… but their skills are extremely valuable."

Andrea makes her way through the first section of the arena, paying no attention to its contents, and steps up to the obstacle course. Upon approval from the staff, she moves through with zero hesitation. Tia is astounded watching her move so smoothly through the course. Her natural athleticism is apparent and she doesn't even sweat or lose breath. She rarely pauses, easily supporting her weight with the durability of metal fortifying small portions of her body when helpful or even cutting into sections of wood with her blades to alter her momentum. Tia is blown away at Andrea's precision and her own anxiety begins to accumulate knowing she could never compete. Albert catches Tia biting at her nails.

"Her family invested a lot in her," Albert cuts in, causing Tia to jump, "Many of the house heirs received especially extreme training due to their proximity in age to the prince. Don't feel too bad, most of us can't compare."

"I know..." Tia answers in a meager tone, clearly diffident, "But everyone expects me to be like her."

"Do you... even want to?" Albert asks after a brief consideration but seems to wither as she glances to him, "W-wanna be like t-them?"

Tia shifts her attention to Leon in the front row, appraising Andrea's performance with harsh appraisal. Disgust passes over his expression at her slightest error.

"Definitely not!" Tia states emphatically and nods to Leon, "Feel free to give me a slap if I'm ever anywhere near as arrogant as that rooster!" Albert tries to stifle his amusement but Tia's own laughter draws the same out of him, "What about you, how do you think you'll do?"

"Me?" Albert exclaims, "Worse than you, probably!" he smiles at Tia's surprise, "I'll be lucky not to trip down the stairs just getting down there." They snicker at each other as another recruit steps onto the platform.

"We've got an unexpected addition to the Stahlmann house next," Felix announces, recapturing their attention. Tia blinks and squints, surprised to see a familiar face.

"Euan Mac...." Felix pauses to listen to the name again, "Euan MacFhearghus, nephew of General Martin Stahlmann himself!"

Murmurs circulate through the crowd before a polite applause. Euan wears a steady smile as he appraises the crowd but, as his eyes land on Tia, the smile morphs into a grin.

"Is he smiling... at you?" Albert asks, eyes jumping between them.

"We sort of know each other..." Tia grumbles unfavorably.

"What form can we expect from you today, Euan?" Felix questions.

"Corrust's Touch," Euan answers as he had been instructed to, "an' Azowyr's Step."

Felix and the audience are left in reverent disbelief, even Albert. Into their silence, Euan activates his form and charcoal gray markings swallow up Euan's hands to his forearms. His eyes go dark, his irises grey and sclera black, and the skin surrounding his eyes take on more charcoal swirls akin to a mask. Bright orange flame patterns spread from his fingertips and battle the charcoal stains to his wrists, matched only by his ginger hair.

Before anything else can be said, Euan backs up and steps off into the dim shadow of the stage. As he does, he seems to slip into it until he disappears entirely. Murmurs circle the arena but, not a moment later, he leaps out of Felix's shadow and lands back in place with some effort. Euan's theatrics are met with clamorous applause and he soaks it in before continuing forward. Like Andrea, he garners no reaction from the orb and, while not as graceful or speedy, he makes his way through the obstacle course with minimal struggle despite noticeably sweating.

More nobles present themselves and follow after them through the tests. Two seem to produce a reaction from the orb while others use the provided ingredients to cast material magic spells. Andrea enters the last portion of her test—the marked field. A staff sits at the other edge with hands stained by auburn and russet smears. She motions as if pulling up and shaping something before her. In response, human shaped figures begin to rise from the earth of the arena. Andrea doesn't bother with any of the weapons provided, seeming to enjoy tearing the mud-men apart with her own blades. She fights unflinching and unimpeded by their attacks, crashing over her metallic body with little effect. She continues for some time before they call the match. Andrea pauses only to wipe the dirt off of herself before letting her form fade.

Euan, just after her, takes up two long daggers, a hand crossbow and a mysterious bag. Another staff steps next to Euan at the edge of the field. They converse briefly before he nods in understanding. Felix pauses introducing new recruits for a moment to focus on his fight.

"It seems young Euan will be given a chance to show how he can utilize his unique abilities in battle," Felix explains, "Staff will be summoning and moving about some shadows for Euan at random. Let's see what this young man can do!"

Euan cracks his neck before he steps into the field, an eager smirk never leaving his expression. Dark pockets streak and stretch across the field, both in the air and along the ground. The shadows meander about steadily but sporadically and the other staff begins manifesting mud-people. These charge at him once formed. Euan pours tiny metal beads into his palm from his bag and drops them on the ground before him. As the opponents are about to bear down on him, Euan leaps into a passing shadow and vanishes. He reappears on the other side of the field and his opponents scramble to turn about. Euan gestures at them and his orange marks flash brightly. Simultaneously, the beads he dropped burst and pockets of fire swallow up the dummies. The crowd clamors in response and the staff quickly begins crafting a larger number of enemies directly around Euan. He touches one dummy before sprinting into another shadow.

Euan emerges in the center of the arena and immediately sets off another weaker blast, blowing chunks of hot mud about. More emerge from the earth, the caster waving about frenetically. Euan takes aim with his crossbow next, tapping the bolt with a swift touch before shooting at the emerging dummies. The crossbow thunks into the chest of one opponent and, as they charge closer to him, Euan sets off a small blast which tears the others apart with the pieces of their cohort. Two dummies make it through the blast and the first swings a sword down on Euan. He blocks it's attack with the hilt of his dagger and sinks the second rapidly in and out of its torso. The second dummy swings down a great axe. Euan steps to the side, throwing the "dead" dummy in the way of the strike. As it stumbles and tries to reclaim its weapon, Euan tackles them into a shadow. 

The staff crafts ten more in his absence and they spread out evenly across the field. In blinding succession, Euan pops in and out slitting throats, shanking torsos and stealthily dropping more metal balls as he moves. He drops the "body" of the dummy he spirited away before setting off all of his planted bombs at once, including his "captive", causing his hands to gleam intensely as he does.

The air of the arena pulses as fire and mud fly chaotically. The arena is quiet as the dust settles and Euan appears in the center, squatted down and panting with his form faded. Both staff cease their manipulations upon seeing his exhaustion and he takes a long moment to catch his breath, appearing pallid. The crowd bursts into applause nonetheless and he gives a tired smile and wave before trudging out of sight. Finally, after the rest of the recruits exhibit their skills, Ifani steps forward and Albert grows keenly attentive.

"Last up, we have Lady Ifani Brandt, daughter of Baroness Clarissa Brandt!" Felix announces. Before he can ask her skin shines metallic, similar to Andrea but with a grayer hue, followed by a searing orange glow.

"Is she... related to Andrea?" Tia questions and Albert shakes his head in a quick and fervent denial.

"No, not at all," Albert reassure her, "But Ifani's mother is from the same region of the valley as Andrea's family. She has Martor's Skin instead of Body, meaning she can convert just her skin into metal. But a layer of tungsten carbide paired with Emryl's Skin is still astonishingly effective! Together, she can rapidly generate extreme temperatures and inflict severe burns. Not that that's all she uses it for..."

Tia watches her pass through the obstacle course as Albert brags and describes Ifani's abilities and techniques. To her surprise, Ifani moves through the ground course far more seamlessly than even Andrea, almost mechanically. As she makes her way to the field, she arms herself with only a simple gladius. Ifani fights efficiently with sharp and precise motion—not a single movement is wasted. She even utilizes the movements of her opponents against them.

The mud-people bake instantly when they make contact with her scathing armor, Albert mentioning her skin could tolerate more than six thousand degrees without melting. It was apparent to even Tia's amateur eyes that her swordsmanship far surpasses the head of her House or any else who had performed so far. The fighting goes on without pause even as the mud-people greatly outnumber her, Ifani pacing herself cautiously. She makes sparing use of her magic as well, furthering her endurance.

"She's amazing!" Tia breathes in awe.

"You should see her fight real people," Albert agrees, feeling especially proud of Ifani. He knew well how she had painstakingly prepared herself for this moment.

"Wow!" Felix remarks, into the applause, "What a performance! A strong finish to wrap things up for the Stahlmann House this year," Ifani wipes sweat away with a towel, soaking in the cheers with mild pleasure before exiting, "Next up, we have the Minx House!"

Tia locks up, even her breath catching. A bulk of participants around them rise and begin making their way down into her hesitation.

"Tia?" Albert inquires gently, snapping her out of a panicked daze. She gives a nervous laugh and rises. "Good luck!" Albert encourages her.

"You too!" Tia manages to respond, descending the stairs.

Pony Show

Staff rush forward as they line up and attempt to sort the teens by different categories and rank. Tia, to her displeasure, is asked to wait first at the foot of the stage while they sort the rest.

"We introduce this prestigious House with yet another surprise this year!" Felix announces and Tia's nerves are already buzzing, "Returning home from distant lands beyond Yaxiya, His Grace has brought home an unexpected heir! She is Lady Tia Minx, daughter of Duke Allen Minx!"

Tia steps onto the stage, a fire raging in her stomach. She had anticipated anxiety and discomfort, but while her heart still hammers in her chest, it is thrill which stirs in Tia and vibrates her body.

She beams at the crowd and releases her form fully, her fangs growing out into an energetic smile. Tia spreads out her wings dramatically and lets electricity crackle over her entire body, illuminated by her bright yellow markings as they flash and flicker.

"Incredible!" Felix remarks as his illusion hovers above their heads, "A full, Minx-specific Maralith Form and Beranok's Aura!"

As the colosseum quiets down, Tia steps to the orb. An obtuse glass ball rests atop a pedestal with a ring of crystals circling it. Linear, monogram lettering links these crystals to each other and to the orb itself. Tia moves gingerly and hovers her hands over the ball, concentrating with knitted brows. To her surprise and delight, a brilliant glow begins culminating from the center of the ball, catching everyone's attention. An array of colors seem to dance and mingle within the orb. Red, silver, blue and yellow streak within the ball and then, slowly, a shadow begins swallowing the colors up until a stream of water, soft light, a flame and a spark arc out to four of the smaller crystals, banishing the shadow before swiftly petering out. Then, nothing. Tia looks to the staff observing the reaction who frowns and shakes their head in disappointment.

"What a pity," the attendant sighs as Tia's delight falls away, "You possess ample energy and the potential to be a mage but lack the ability to craft the energy properly."

Tia droops as they scribble down her results, having hoped for more. The staff gestures and Tia makes her way to the terrestrial obstacle course.

'It wasn't likely to work,' Duff drones as she continues forward, his tone falling short of consolation, 'Most shape shifters struggle with true magic. Only the most skilled casters can harness all forms of magic.'

'So I might've been able to do it if I wasn't a shape shifter?' Tia questions, failing to stifle her bitterness.

'Perhaps,' Duff sounds simplistically.

Tia refocuses and examines the course as she climbs the ramp. At the top is a line of rope strung up between this platform and another. She moves across it slowly, wobbling drastically and needing to use her wings to rebalance herself. A moment later she was across, still feeling comfortable despite moving slower than others she had observed.

The next portion has a set of logs spaced a few feet apart each. Nets are placed over or under them alternatingly. Already Tia is thankful she was able to observe others clear the course first. She imitates those before her, swinging under or over the beams alternatively. She bumps her right wing on one set of logs and catches a foot in the net twice but still makes it through relatively unscathed.

The next section presents a set of walls. On one side is a pane of glass and the other wall is set with a number of divots and extrusions. The glass pane is set closely so that one couldn't fly up the obstacle. Tia lets her wings fade and begins climbing. While more muscular than she was in the previous month, Tia struggles to pull her weight up the obstacle and begins slipping halfway up. She digs her claws into the stone and breaths deeply before scrounging up the rest of the way.

Once Tia crests the wall, a set of pillars lower sequentially before reaching the ground again. Tia leaps from pillar to pillar, easing the drops with her wings. Her foot skids off the surface of a middle pillar and she clings to it desperately, sliding halfway down. She can hear the audience gasp as she slips, taking a moment to steady herself before climbing back up. Tia clears a number of different obstacles by the skin of her teeth and her exhaustion makes her arms shake by the end. She is smeared with mud and bruised but manages to finish the course.

Tia pauses to catch her breath, some nobles already catching up to her and others passing by the aerial course entirely. She can also see some participants racing around the track by foot, mount or form. Tia stretches her wings carefully before stepping onto the starting platform. There are a number of hoops, walls and nets lining the course and one large pool of muddy water lays underneath for those unfortunate enough to fall.

Tia swoops under the first wall, her pupils contracting and honing in on each feature as she glides under, climbs upward and tucks between each obstacle with relative effort. Out of all her lessons, she takes to flight the most and finds it deeply liberating. However, still a beginner, she has a number of close calls. Near the end, she collides with an wall and falls halfway to the water, her wings aching as she glides along the water's surface.

Finally, Tia approaches the field to battle the mud-mannequins. Many of the weapons which line the racks are unfamiliar to Tia. She takes one simple broadsword in her hands, having only trained with swords thus far. Three mud-men rise from the arena, each carrying mud swords as well and approach her cautiously. She side-steps a lunge before driving her own blade into it's gut and rips it out the side of the dummy to parry a slash from its compatriot. She digs her claws into the torso of the attacker and runs a charge into it. The mud hardens and cracks apart from the heat. The third mud-man slashes down on her from behind. Tia dashes forward in time to evade, nearly tripping before spinning around and running at the opponent. She brings her wings out again, getting a few feet off the ground and knocking it prone with a kick before running it through.

As she finishes off the third opponent, the staff crafts five more, each armed differently. Tia dodges out of the way of a javelin before baring down on the aggressor and pulling him into the air with her with some difficulty, her wings not built for lifting. The mud-man squirms in her grasp while the others stumble from her wingbeats but after rising higher Tia dumps him over two of the others, knocking one prone and smashing the other. An arrow whizzes past her head, her ears picking up on the sound in time to dodge, and she locks onto the archer with her minx eyes. Tia gestures with her hand and, much to her relief, sparks arc from her fingers, connecting to the archer with great intensity and baking it into place. Euan, watching from a balcony, flinches but cheers her on stridently. 

Two mud-men remain "alive". Tia can feel her body wearing out now, her wings and limbs leaden. With a huff, she uses her wingbeats to unbalance them as she lands. Tia sinks her blade into the body of one opponent but the blade sticks in place. Tia struggles to rip it out, her arms too fatigued to manage, and as she yanks at her weapon the last dummy swings a muddy axe down on her.

Tia drops to her knees as dirt, mud and small rocks collide into her back, crumbling over her already heavy body and lacerating her shoulders. The crowd gasps in horror and Tia grits her fangs, losing her temper. She shouts and her marks blaze with blinding intensity, electricity rolling over her body once before arcing outward and connecting with all remaining mud-figures.

Tia's body flickers ferociously, searing beams discharging from her unpredictably over the entire field and the staff has to wrench up a wall of earth at the last second to protect themselves from her overzealous assault. Tia huffs for breath as her discharge subsides and, with pain, her wings recede away, keeping only her ears and markings. The mud-men smoke, some cooked into place while others begin to crumble apart, and a pronounced hush falls over the colosseum.

The staff calls the match, sure that Tia has no energy left after such an attack let alone her apparent physical exhaustion. There is a light applause, slow and laced with whispers, as Tia returns the weapon and staggers towards the exit. Her face burns from both exhaustion and embarrassment. Towels and water wait in the room beyond. She wipes the filth from her limbs and face and a medic cleans her scrapes and bruises. They offer her a drink. It tastes excessively sweet and, as she sips, her injuries begin to close up. Satisfied, the medic moves on to other participants. 

Down the hall, a large suite waits and is filled with various participants, food and drink. One can view the arena on a balcony as well. A buffet is the centerpiece of the room and staff bustle about offering drinks. Some sit by themselves, resting or watching the event, while others are grouped together and discuss their or others' performances. A few are bold enough to point to Tia and whisper while others are more discrete, again overlooking the sensitivity of Tia's ears. She brushes off their attention, finding a quiet corner to rest. Tia notices there were a number of people who choose to wait for their assessment here rather than in the stands. She settles into an armchair just behind a small group of seeming friends.

"Rare to see a new face here," a voice sounds behind her.

A fair featured teen swings around to speak to her face to face. He is markedly handsome, possessing arctic blue eyes, short auburn hair and an easy smile. Lofty and lean, he towers over Tia resting his elbow high on the wall to peer over her with apparent ease. Tia feels heat crawl up her neck and sit on her ears as he looks her over with a charming smile.

"You didn't see me out there?" Tia questions, still rather embarrassed by her performance. He waves off the suggestion without losing his smile.

"I don't bother keeping up with all that," he assures her and Tia allows herself to relax, "Seems arbitrary when all of us know everything about each other already. You on the other hand," he pauses, pointing a finger at her and flashing another dimpled smile, "You're a mystery."

"I-I um..." Tia stammers and her heart flutters, surprising her, "I'm Tia." 

He maintains his charming demeanor but she can see him turning her name over in his mind as it seems familiar. He can't place it though and juts a thumb at himself.

"Well, Tia, I'm Orin," he informs her and leans his back against the wall, "Orin Philippe, House Chevalier. And you?" Tia shifts in her seat and a frown tugs at her lips.

"I guess you do keep up with all of that," Tia retorts carefully and he throws up his hands.

"Alright, alright," Orin's laugh is light and lilting, "A beautiful mystery woman you will remain!" he teases, stunning Tia and leaving her tongue-tied.

He widens his smile before departing. Tia tries to stifle her embarrassment, running fingers through her hair to straighten in. Orin wanders the room, eyes dancing from peer to peer. Then, a familiar face waves him over with wide eyes.

"I can't believe you actually spoke to her!" Bridget whispers in a conspiratorial tone, surprising Orin, "Do you have any idea who that is??"

"No," Orin answers, a bit thrown by Bridget's reaction, "I couldn't get a surname or House out of her. Why, who is she?"

"You didn't see her at the introduction last week?" Bridget questions and he frowns at her.

"You know why I couldn't," Orin grumbles and she gasps, shifting her eyes uncomfortably before looking to Tia again.

"That's Tia Minx!" Bridget informs him with a sense of awe, "The duke's only heir."

Orin seems genuinely taken aback and turns to regard her again, finding Tia shifting her gaze from him quickly. His eyes come to life as new possibilities spin away in his mind but finds himself frowning as another young man approaches her.

"Hey you!" Euan chimes, a mug of ale in his hand, "That wis uh... something," as usual, Tia frowns impulsively and he plops into the adjacent chair, kicking his feet up on a table, "Ehhhh," Euan dismisses, "Ye weren't that bad. You sure had a lot o' juice in ye at th' end!" 

"I didn't see you get an axe to the back?" Tia points out with a near pout.

"Aye, Am pretty great," Euan brags unabashedly and Tia rolls her eyes, "Which is why ye're still impressive. You terrify me."

"Impressive is the last word I'd use for me," Tia scoffs, trying to dismiss her embarrassment from the unexpected praise, "You, Andrea or that other one… uh, Ifani? They're impressive. I tanked out there!" 

"On thir little test maybe," Euan answers and shrugs, looking around the room, "Big pony show these rich bastards hev been preparing fur since th' day they were born. You though," he says looking back and gesturing at her with his drink, "Ye get it right when it counts. Outside this freaky place."

"Is there a difference?" Tia questions, continuing her grumpy and self-depreciative mood. 

"Listen," Euan says, frowning and growing more serious, "I spent years robbing an' ransoming these kind o' people but it wis you who knocked me on ma arse an' got me caught. No' in some stupid game, out there in th' real world."

"Is that what you were going to do," Tia asks with a touch of laughter and finds herself smiling, "Ransom me?" 

"Aye, I was going fur you," Euan chortles, "They always cough up mair for their wee ones. But then you were looking right at us!" he looks at Tia with exaggerated shock and she finds herself laughing.

"You sound a bit different than before," Tia comments and Euan shrugs.

"They hev me taking these lessons fur how I talk," Euan states and Tia raises her eyebrows, "I dinnae care how I sound but no one understands whit I say. Cannae nab any lasses 'at way!"

Tia rolls her eyes again but snorts. He looks past her then, his smile dropping some. Tia turns, her eyes meeting Orin's, and he flashes another charming smile. She blushes and whips back around.

"Oh no," Euan gripes, "That's whit does it for ye?" Tia's face reddens further and she kicks Euan's leg, garnering another cackle from him.

"I'm leaving anyway," Tia huffs, rising from her chair.

"What, Am no' good enough company for ye?" Euan scowls as Tia glances around the room.

"Better than most of these people," Tia answers vacantly and he blinks in astonishment, "But my family is probably worried already. I should go before they send someone to find me."

"Weel," Euan rolls out in full accent, offering her another grin, "Guess A'll see ye around moggy, tell yer da hello fur me!" Tia gives him a humming laugh before wandering off. Euan leers at Orin again, disliking the way he watches her.

Seventeen

Later in the evening, Tia rests on the balcony of the manor with a steaming green tea clasped in her fingers and a woolen blanket draped about her shoulders, Duff napping in her lap. A storm rumbles below and flashes of lightning brighten the clouds in a sporadic dance, stirring her spirit. Despite the barrier, Tia could appreciate the scent of rain and feel the caress of diminished wind, still rustling her hair. She inhales deeply, relishing the scent and bringing some relief to her lethargic body. The stained glass door squeaks open behind her and Allen freezes at the threshold.

"Oh, uh," he hesitates and re-shifts his weight to turn around, "Sorry..."

"It's okay!" Tia blurts, Allen pausing in response. She offers a gangly smile, melting away some of his tension. He steps gingerly to the railing, his movements delicate and cautious. Allen studies the billowing tempest below before speaking.

"You've always loved storms," Allen sighs, lightning flashing in his eyes, "You'd come home drenched but more alive than when you left," his laugh is tender, "If you weren't so tired I'd suggest a flight through the storm. One of the best benefits of our form!"

"That sounds amazing!" Tia utters in a mild breath, "I guess between your lightning and mom's water I was bound to like them," Tia muses before she falls silent again. Allen tries to smile but Tia can still see the pain which lingers in his expression. "Dad," Tia continues more seriously, "Can we talk?" Allen nearly gasps, his eyes flashing to his daughter with eyebrows raised.

"Of course!" Allen answers emphatically, quickly taking a seat across from her but still moving as if the floor might give out beneath him. Once seated, he opens his mouth multiple times but can't seem to work out what to say, his eyes lingering on Duff only briefly. Allen had so much he wanted to say to her, these words burgeoning in his lungs.

"I know," Tia begins instead, "You want to know what happened. I've been so obsessed with you keeping things from me but I'm doing it too."

"Oh, Tia," Allen breathes gently, "I don't think that's a fair comparison... My hesitation put you at risk."

"And I'm hurting you with mine!" Tia emphasizes with furrowed brows.

"If me suffering," Allen states emphatically, a hand to his chest, "Could ever alleviate even a fraction of your own, I would take it all in an instant!" Tia sighs at her father's seeming exaggeration.

"Can we stop?" Tia huffs, setting her tea aside.

"Stop?" Allen echoes, stiffening.

"Stop keeping things from each other," Tia responds, Allen clearly relieved despite her serious expression, "No more hiding or withholding things that are important. I feel like I don't know you anymore!"

"What do you mean, snowdrop?" Allen questions, blindsided by the sentiment.

"Ever since we got here," Tia complains with tinges of aggravation, running her fingers over Duff's back, "Everyone talks about you like you're another person. You're a duke, you were a soldier, you didn't want children, and then… some important general like Martin. What happened to my goofy dad?"

"Ah," Allen puffs up with a sigh and he thinks on his response with a tight frown, "All of that, all of this..." he gestures to the manor grounds, "Was never me, Tia. The person you've been hearing about... I'm not him anymore. I haven't been for a long time."

"What does that even mean?" Tia complains, nearly pouting, and Allen gives her a lopsided smile, "Can you just... tell me about your life here? If you do I'll... I'll tell you about that night!"

"Tia...." Allen's voice is solemn, "I'll tell you whatever you want to know but not because your leveraging that," Allen pauses to chuckle, his expression showing recollection, pain and then acceptance, "As I've been told, you won't stay my little girl forever. I need to treat you like the young woman I hope you'll become."

"I haven't been 'a little girl' for a long time," Tia grumbles and Allen's shoulders shake with laughter. He pauses to regard the garden, his wistful expression exposing nostalgia and grief.

"This garden used to bustle with the laughter of children," Allen's tone is quiet and soft as if a louder tone might shred the gentle memory, "The silence now still haunts me."

"Children?" Tia questions, following his gaze and trying to envision it.

"I had many siblings," Allen explains in a stark tone, "So many that, I hate to admit, I can't remember all of them. Fifteen or so, maybe?"

"Fifteen?!" Tia gasps, "How did Grandma even- I didn't know one woman could-" Allen chuckles into her halting surprise but it falls away.

"Many families in Accia," Allen expounds carefully, "Especially noble families, try to have as many children as possible to 'provide soldiers' for the kingdom's expansion. Traditionally, those children begin their training at five, are introduced to noble society at ten and are assessed at sixteen before joining the training program."

Allen pauses, a pensive sigh escaping as memories of he and his siblings' daily lives return to him. His eyes drift to a building on the other side of the garden very familiar to him—a training hall he an his siblings had honed their skills within. Memories of ducking below the windows, sweets in hand and Darrell at his side, to glimpse Iris and Edmund train while even younger tots scamper across the garden play in his mind. Tia watches her father quietly, trying to imagine what it must've been like to have such a large family.

"When mother returned from her own service, she was… very passionate to fulfill her duties," Allen begins again with a stern tone, "Father was very driven as well. 'Our family doesn't hesitate to sacrifice for the kingdom' he would say—said it to the late King in fact at my own introduction," Allen frowns hard into the quote, "And we certainly didn't. My youngest sister Felicity and I are the only ones left."

"All of them...?" Tia gasps, feeling a chill run up her back, unable to fathom the pain her father must have experienced. The utter loss. Allen's gaze is lost in the clouds as anger, pain and grief swirl over his features and he tries to reign in these emotions.

"Most all of us inherited the 'minx' wings," Allen explains, some hardness still lingering in his voice, "As well as Flithmar or Beranok's Aura. Aerial combat is already extremely dangerous but... in that particular campaign it became desperately lethal."

"Campaign?" Tia questions, unfamiliar with the terminology.

"A military operation with a certain goal in mind or in a particular area," Allen lists off for her patiently, still appreciating her innocence while it lasts, "Previous campaigns had been primarily terrestrial, in the vast open plains and deserts of Alkelbulan, but when my siblings and I had come of age we had turned our attention eastward. The lands of Yaxiya are the domain of Ylithuum, Wylrith, Rylis and Ralgotar, primarily."

"That's… earth, water, air and…." Tia pauses, struggling to recall the last.

"Magma," Allen answers her before continuing, "It is the most mountainous region we have ever encountered. Because of this, and the adaptions of those who called them home, aerial battles became vital, frequent and… devastating. The Aerial Division saw record deaths," his voice had become cold and bitter as he finishes his explanation, staring out at the storm again.

"How did," Tia prods tentatively, stirring him from his memories, "How did you survive?"

"Many soldiers," Allen answers, eyebrows pulling up, "Survive out of luck. The rest, at least for me, was dedication, sacrifice and calculation. Between my 'favorable form' and being the same age as then Prince Ambrose I had far more expectations placed on me. I increasingly felt it was my responsibility to put an end to the campaign."

"But-" Tia cuts in and he raises his hands to stop her.

"I understand now that it wasn't," Allen insists in his defense, "But at that age, seeing so many of my siblings dying around me, I needed to believe I could and it was how I was expected to behave," Tia still has a sour expression at the idea but lets him continue, "I convinced myself, among other things, that I could end it before the rest of my siblings would… fall. I constructed myself into the 'General' who could do that but that person was never me."

"You were... pretending?" Tia asks in a high tone, trying to grasp his explanation and failing.

"I was burying myself in another identity," Allen tries to clarify, "I made choices and took actions, behaved, as I was expected to and I needed to in order to advance the campaign. Even if this wasn't actually in my nature. I became the shrewd, cruel, lethal and calculating General they needed and I was swallowed up by it," he pauses to squeeze the bridge of his nose, "But I couldn't be that person anymore, not after that final battle."

"What happened?" Tia prods sheepishly, a bit hesitant to hear the end of his tale.

"We had sieged their capital for months and," Allen gives himself a derisive sigh, "The end in sight, I became rash. I had given almost a decade of my life to that campaign and all of my siblings, aside from Felicity, were in service. A number of them had already died under my-" his voice breaks and he had to pause to clear his voice.

"I-" Tia squeaks, "I can't imagine…." Tia places a hand over his. Allen's expression speaks to how desperately thankful he is that she would never have to.

"In the end, we defeated the clan who guarded their palace," Allen's words emerge slowly and with great difficulty, his expression vacant in the face of harrowing memories, "But I was the only Minx left. I had succeeded as a General… at the cost of my family."

"I'm so sorry Dad," Tia's voice drips with sympathy, squeezing his hand. He squeezes back once.

"I retired and returned home," Allen continues, relieved to move past the worst of it, "And mother..." he pauses to frown, "Was anxious for me to tend to my 'other duties'. Day after day and woman after woman…" he sighs, exasperated, "The new expectation was marriage and providing an heir for the House. Eventually, mother and I had a falling out and I swore I'd never marry, let alone have a child," he smiles, watching Tia's surprise, "As a favor, his majesty sent me to Nippon. He knew I needed to get away and... I suppose he hoped getting me away from my mother and the capital may help me recuperate."

"Did it?" Tia questions, her tone becoming hopeful.

"A little," Allen answers with a light chuckle, "It certainly gave me room to shed most of the expectations."

"Then what changed?" Tia asks, Allen donning a sentimental smile.

"Your mother," Allen answers, his face lighting up at the mention, "She saw who I was underneath it all and brought out the best in me. She made me believe I could be that person. She even gave me you!" Tia frowns at the mention of her mother and his smile fades.

"I guess its my turn," Tia mumbles.

"You don't have to-" Allen begins but Tia shakes her head, insisting. Tia narrates, in as much detail as she can muster, the events of that night. After she's done, he sits in silence, face rested in his hands with a blank expression.

"She-" Allen blurts but then pauses, "But she- You meant everything to her, she wouldn't-" Tia scowls into the storm, sharp winds whipping it up and billowing a cloud into a thunderhead, "She couldn't have!" Allen gasps in disbelief, "Maybe she-"

"She left me for dead," Tia grates precisely, closing her eyes with hands fisted in her lap, "She saw them coming and she fled!" Allen is pale as she speaks, the shadows on the patio behind her expanding ominously, "She didn't even look back!" 

"Tia!" Evelyn sounds, stepping out onto the patio and placing a hand on her shoulder. As Tia meets her grandmother's gaze the shadows fade. "You are allowed to be angry!" Evelyn declares softly and tears bud in Tia's eyes, "Your father will feel what he needs to feel about it," she continues, glancing to him and he is already scowling, "That doesn't mean you can't do the same." 

"How long have you been here?" Allen growls, swallowing more severe words. Evelyn sighs and pads to the railing, her back to them.

"Seventeen," Evelyn answers delicately, as if speaking the words too loudly could shatter her. Allen draws in a sharp breath in response as Evelyn continues, "I had seventeen children. Eight boys and nine girls, not including those I lost too early. I can name and describe every one of them," they stew in a thick silence before she finally continues with a withering tone, "I won't allow myself to forget."

"And yet you've erased every trace of them," Allen snaps. They watch as her claws dig into the railing before she sighs and turns to them.

"Come with me," Evelyn requests plainly, her face void of anger.

Tia and Allen look to each other before following after her. They trail after Evelyn as she leads them through the hallways of the manor. At the end of the wing, Evelyn pauses in front of a portrait of herself holding a baby and beaming.

"What are we-" Allen begins, impatient.

Before he can finish his question, Evelyn grabs the portrait by the frame and sets it against a perpendicular wall. This reveals a small door, just big enough to squeeze through. She disappears through it and Tia follows after her. Allen enters last and the sight of the next room leaves him breathless.

The walls of the hidden room are filled to the brim with portraits and sketches. Each section contains portraits of baby, toddler, teenage and adult versions of a different individuals with their names displayed below each one. Evelyn paces along the wall, carefully regarding each one. Flowers have been set up along various sections and children's items, letters and other memorabilia are laid out on tables in the center. Allen is speechless for more than a minute, tears flowing in wonder and grief, preventing speech.

"Are these...?" Tia nearly whispers and Allen nods wordlessly, walking by and regarding the portraits. Tia pauses in front of two little boys, grinning at each other with jam-smeared faces, placed inside a silver frame.

"Why would you keep them all here?" Allen finally manages to husk before regarding his mother. He is shocked to spot tears running freely down her cheeks. Allen wasn't sure he'd ever seen her cry.

"I can't seem to look at them without... well," Evelyn answers breathily, gesturing to her face, "Titus detested weakness of any kind, especially within our family," she bites bitterly, her fingers grazing hidden scars beneath layers of clothing, "He insisted I burn it all. Everyone had to believe that I did."

"Father never..." Allen tries to dismiss, shaking his head, and Evelyn frowns in the same resentful manner Tia had earlier, catching him off guard.

"You may have a keen mind, Allen," Evelyn complains, "But you've always been naive about those you admire. Your father wasn't half the man you believe he was!" she steps beside Tia, still studying the sketch, and a warm smile settles into place, "Gloria and Iris enjoyed sketching quite a bit, any art really. This is Allen and Darell—inseparable, mischievous gremlins!" Evelyn chuckles in appreciation, rubbing the the frame displaying the sketch before turning to her son again.

"And yet you still handed us up to the kingdom," Allen accuses with a deadpan tone.

"We both honor them in our own ways," Evelyn responds pointedly, "You try to embody their best qualities to keep them alive," Tia turns and raises her eyebrows as Allen's face tightens and his eyes slide away, "Darell's humor, Edmund's selflessness, Iris' protective nature..."

Allen regards a portrait of Darell, Edmund, Iris and himself in uniform, just after Allen had been promoted to General, and his expression softens.

"And I refuse to waste their sacrifices. I keep our family going!" Evelyn looks at Tia with a smile as she stifles a yawn, "You should get some sleep, dear." Tia looks to her father with concern but he gestures for her to go.

"I'm sorry," Evelyn speaks softly as they turn, leaving the subject of her apology to his imagination, "Come here whenever you need to." They make their way through the little door. Allen is silent as they disappear, lost in memory.

Killer Technique

"Alright, Tia," Allen looses a sigh, leading his daughter into the patio, "I ought to show you at least the basics before you leave." 

"The basics of what?" Tia questions.

To Tia's surprise, a full-sized, cloth mannequin waits for them in the garden with various diagrams embroidered into it, illustrating muscles and organs. Allen gives a deep sigh as he places a hand on its familiar shoulder.

"My techniques!" Allen claims in a popping tone, glancing to her after studying the dummy, "There are far more effective ways of utilizing Beranok's Aura than tossing lightning around wildly!" Tia blushes, grimacing as he tilts his head toward her. 

"Fine," Tia mumbles, her pout drawing out a laugh from her father.

"It's easy to run yourself out of energy too quickly while using your aura haphazardly, even for you," Allen continues, "But if you focus on accuracy and precision, not only will you be more effective but you'll likely outlast your opponent!"

"How do you zap someone 'precisely'?" Tia answers with a measure of sass. 

"Smaller shocks targeting specific muscles or organs," Allen continues, pointing to different diagrams on the mannequin as he speaks, "Just enough to freeze up or contract them, to impede or manipulate their nervous system. This can drastically throw off or even paralyze an opponent, leaving them open to attack or worse. This is especially dangerous for aerial opponents if you can lock up their wings."

"Wait, how does zapping muscles... um..." Tia questions, confused. She tilts her head, not seeming to understand the basis of the technique. Allen waves her over. 

"Change into another form," Allen instructs and, as she takes up her birth form, his hand glows yellow.

Allen gestures with two fingers, touching them to Tia's arm. As his fingers connect, Tia's bicep contracts on its own and tingles from the gentle current. He touches her shoulder as well, furthering his point.

"Whoa!" Tia gasps, amazed not only by his ability to affect her movements but by his control in not injuring her in the process, "Oh I definitely gotta learn that one!"

"When you get the hang of it," Allen continues, Tia flexing her arm, "This technique lets you alter your opponent's movements and uses very little energy. Though, it's important to remember extended or excessive shocks can damage and even tear muscles as well as cause burns. But with practice, you can also project it."

Allen pauses, gesturing with the same two finger motion pointed to the other side of the garden. Once locked on with his yellow-green eyes, electricity connects very briefly to a flower. Tia looks with her own green eyes, zooming in to see a dead bee below the flower while the bloom itself is untouched. 

"What!!" Tia exclaims, gesturing with shock. Allen beams with pride, quickly followed by laughter as she gapes. 

"Flight is a powerful tool," Allen reasons, a tinge of laughter still sneaking into his tone, "But our eyes can hone the potential precision of these techniques even further. Also, while it can be fun to walk around in full form," Allen teases, pinching Tia's ear again, "An opponent is far more likely to underestimate you if you conceal your form, manifesting only what you need to attack," Allen pauses, manifesting just his yellow hands and eyes, "I've... beaten many opponents in this form." 

"You mean..." Tia responds slowly, "Killed, don't you?"

Allen frowns, sighing, and feels the urge to craft a less ugly lie for his daughter yet he knows this isn't what she needed anymore. Tia will face a gruesome reality very soon.

"Yes," Allen relents with reluctance. He sits on the fountain's edge and invites her over, patting its surface. Tia settles next to him and listens attentively. He speaks plainly, "I'm sorry I didn't train you sooner. I had hoped you would never need any of this." 

"I know, dad," Tia offers him a lopsided smile, "And I'm sorry I wasted so much of our time being angry." 

"What I wouldn't give for more time," Allen bemoans, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, "You're going to need time to learn these techniques."

"How long did it take you?" Tia asks and Allen grimaces.

"Longer than you've lived," Allen admits, Tia blinking in response, "And I've got one more for you. But... this isn't something you can practice ordinarily." 

"What's that supposed to mean?" Tia questions slowly, squinting at him. Allen rises and approaches the mannequin with a grim expression. He taps its chest.

"This is my strongest technique. I developed it myself," Allen narrates, "As I demonstrated, you only need to manifest your eyes and hands. After years of... practice," Allen speaks with tone devoid of life, "I learned a human heartbeat follows a specific rhythm and if you interrupt that rhythm at just the right moment," he pauses and places his palm over the heart of the mannequin with a somber expression, "Their heart will stop."

Tia's eyes widen, realizing his meaning suddenly, leaving her with a blank expression. When Allen glances back to her, Tia's face shows a mixture of uncertainty and discomfort. He sighs, closing his eyes and knitting his brows briefly.

"This is an assassination technique," Allen states plainly, "If you get it right, its a low energy tool to defeat almost any opponent but you can only really practice this on live targets. Failure leaves you vulnerable. If you find yourself in this position," Allen meets her eyes, "I suggest a paralyzing charge or even a more powerful discharge in a pinch, if not retreating altogether."

"But," Tia speaks with hesitation, "How do you know when to...?" Allen gestures to his neck and temple, exposing them to her.

"Watch for my pulse," Allen instructs. Tia focuses, her vision zooming in on his throat. She observes as his skin rises and falls with each beat.

"Lock in onto the rhythm," Allen explains, "With practice, you'll know when to administer the shock to interrupt it," Allen pauses and turns back to the mannequin, "Watch."

Allen lowers his body slightly and holds his left hand just behind his back, his body positioned to block the target's line of sight. The marks on his hand glow and Tia sees the electricity crackling on his palm. Allen dashes forward abruptly, shoving the forearm of his right arm into the dummy and connecting his palm and his elbow to each of the it's shoulders. Electricity connects at these two points and Allen plants his left palm onto the mannequin's chest.

Tia finds herself both in awe and unsettled by Allen's expression while doing this. Serious, aggressive and detached. His attack is akin to a bolt of lightning, sudden, harsh and seemingly unpredictable. Allen takes a step back from the mannequin before speaking again.

"Your second arm can be used," Allen explains and gestures to his palm and elbow, "To keep them from defending from the attack, locking up both of their arms. However, its not always necessary as a simple palm strike can be difficult to defend against if they don't perceive the threat. Finding an opening in general is wise." Allen pauses, noticing Tia stare steadily down at her own hands. When he is silent, she looks up with a grim expression.

"I'm... I'm really going to have to kill people...?" Tia questions, her voice hollow, not having considered this yet.

Allen closes his eyes and grimaces, knowing this innocence couldn't be preserved any longer. Tia's gaze drops with an empty expression, falling into contemplation. Allen rests next to her again, both of them silent.

"I should be upset," Tia's criticizes herself, dissatisfied, "I should be saying 'I don't want to kill anyone!'" she furrows her brows, "But I still think about them."

"Them?" Allen questions and Tia pinches her eyes shut, taking on a rancorous expression.

"Hiroto, Asahi, Kenji, Junichiro, Seina," Tia lists with a quivering voice, fisting her hands in her lap, "And Ben!" she spits, "After everything they did to me, it would be a lie to say I haven't wanted to kill them, that I still don't want to...!"

"Tia..." the softness of Allen's tone makes her wince, his eyes drifting to her hair, "It isn't wrong for you to hate them, to resent them," Tia opens her eyes, meeting her father's concerned gaze, "These people hurt you so badly. What you're feeling is natural, I hate him too. I nearly killed Ben myself!"

"I can't stand seeing him," Tia seethes acrimoniously, her face scrunching at the memory of Ben meandering their great hall at her introduction, "He still frightens me and I hate it! My body was burned, my bones broken, and the rest of me battered and torn," Tia spits and trembles at the memory, "I felt myself dying but he doesn't even have to pay!"

Allen wraps an arm around his daughter, trembling as well from Tia's description. He squeezes Tia as if he could protect her from what had already transpired.

"I wish I could obliterate that cretinous bastard," Allen remarks in a quiet but ferocious tone, his malice astounding Tia, "And he would deserve it. But," Allen takes a breath and lets his shoulders drop, his grip loosening, "We can't kill everyone who hurts us. I've taken so many lives, Tia," she can see the regret painting him and weighing his expression as he look into her eyes, "I don't want you to carry that same burden. Besides, these people have already taken enough from you," concern spills into his eyes, "They don't deserve to take more with the consequences of revenge."

Tia mulls over his words, a frown lingering as she still isn't quite satisfied with his answer, but she is unable to express herself properly. She looks to Duff instead, sunbathing nearby as a cat. This had become his favorite form within the manor, not needing to conceal himself.

"I guess these kinds of things are easier for you?" Tia questions him. He rolls over to look at them as if he hadn't already been listening to their conversation.

'I could kill the twit for you, if you'd like,' Duff states casually, his own delight leaking through, 'No one would even know.'

"Don't tempt me," Tia laughs and Allen blinks at her. Tia releases a long sigh as she stands, looking back to the mannequin. "I guess I should practice?" Tia questions, feeling somewhat lighter.

Allen's smile is just as light, happy to see Tia back to her sunny self. They spend the rest of the afternoon going over and running Tia through his exercises so she could continue practicing, even without him.