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 and Allen pauses.

Tia offers her father a gangly smile, melting away some of his tension. Allen steps gingerly to the railing, his movements delicate and cautious. Allen studies the billowing tempest below, nostalgia bubbling in his eyes.

     "You've always loved storms," Allen sighs, lightning flashing in his eyes, "You'd come home drenched through 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 my 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."

Despite the mild laughter hanging on her words, Tia falls silent and sorrow weighs down her expression. Allen tries to smile but Tia can still see the pain which lingers behind this attempt.

     "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.

He swiftly takes a seat across from Tia but still moves as though the floor might give out beneath him at any moment. Once seated, he opens his mouth multiple times but can't seem to work out what to say. Allen has so much he wants to say to her, endless uncertain 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 my 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, "No more hiding or withholding things that are important. I feel like I don't even 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 out a sigh as he chews on his response, his face tightened by a bitter 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... 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 tha," his expression shows 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.

Allen's eyes drift to the garden, his wistful expression exposing both nostalgia and grief.

     "This garden used to absolutely 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 Baa-chan even- I-I didn't know one woman could even...!"

Allen chuckles into her halting surprise but his smile falls away.

     "Many families in the kingdom, especially noble families," Allen expounds carefully, "Try to have as many children as possible to "provide soldiers" for the kingdom's expansion. Traditionally, those children begin training at five, are introduced into noble society at ten and are assessed at sixteen before joining the training program . All of this is in preparation for their service in the Accian Military."

A pensive sigh escapes Allen's lungs 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 continues, his words dripping with disdain, "Father was very driven as well. 'Our family doesn't hesitate to sacrifice for the kingdom' he would say—said it to the King at my own introduction, in fact."

Allen's face hardens into a deadpan leer, his demeanor matching the turbulent storm below.

     "And we certainly didn't," Allen rumbles with resent, "My youngest sister Felicity and I are the only ones left. No one else survived.."

     "All of them...?" Tia gasps.

Tia feels a chill run up her back as he answers with a simple, grim nod, unable to fathom the pain her father must have experienced. The utter loss. Allen's eyes scour the storm clouds as anger, pain and grief swirl over his features and he tries to reign in these emotions.

     "Almost all of us inherited the minx form, especially wings," Allen explains, a hardness still lingering in his voice, "As well as Flithmar or Beranok's Aura--excellent offensive magic but lacking in defensive properties. 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 region, "Allen lists off for her patiently, still appreciating her innocence while it lasts, "Previous campaigns had been mostly 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's voice trails off, struggling to recall the last.

     "Magma," Allen reminds her before continuing with increasing bitterness and frustration, "It is the most mountainous region we have ever encountered. Because of this, and the adaptions of those who called these regions home, aerial battles became vital, frequent and… devastating. The Aerial Division saw record deaths."

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

     "Many soldiers," Allen answers vacantly, "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. That it was the only way to save my siblings."

     "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 brothers and sisters never coming back, and later even dying all around me, I needed to believe I could. And that was how I was expected to behave," Tia retains a sour expression but lets him continue, "I convinced myself, among other things, that I could end it before the rest of my siblings… fell. I constructed myself into the general who could do that but that person was never actually me."

     "You were... pretending?" Tia asks in a high tone, trying to make sense of his explanation but failing.

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

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

     "We had sieged Yanjing, the capital of Zhongguo, 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 has to stop to clear his throat.

     "I..." Tia squeaks, "I can't even 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 guarding the palace of the Si Xiang in Penglai Shan," Allen's words emerge slowly and with great difficulty, his expression vacant in the face of such 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 with a swift breath, relieved to move past the worst of it, "And mother... Was insistant I tend to my other duties as Duke. Day after day and woman after woman…" 

Allen gives a terse, exasperated sigh.

"The new expectation was marriage and providing an heir for the House," Allen scoffs, "But I didn't see any sense in continuing to sacrifice for the very institution which stole everything I was fighting for! Eventually, mother and I had a falling out and I swore I'd never marry, let alone have a child!" Allen imparts, the slightest smile tugging at his lips seeing Tia's astonishment, "As a favor, his majesty sent me to Nippon. He knew I needed an escape... I suppose he hoped that getting me away from my mother and the capital might help me recuperate."

     "Did it?" Tia questions, timorous hope popping into here words.

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

      "Then what changed?" Tia asks.

    "I met 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 cuts off, "But she- You mean 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, eyes on thee hands fisted in her lap, "She saw them coming and she ran!" Allen grows pale, the shadows on the patio behind her darkening ominously and writhing with her resentment, "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. 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, "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...!" Evelyn states in a withering tone, "I won't allow myself to forget!"

     "Save your crocodile tears!" Allen sneers, his volatility astounding Tia, "You expect me to believe that after you've erased every last trace of them??"

They watch as her claws dig into the railing before she sighs, her shoulders dropping, and turns to them.

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

Tia and Allen look to each other before trailing after Evelyn, leading them through the inner halls of the manor. At the end of the furthest wing, she stops in front of a portrait of herself holding a baby and beaming.

     "What are we-" Allen spits, 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, sketches and memorobilia of faces unfamiliar to Tia. Portraits of babies, toddlers, teenagers and a few adults line the walls with all manner of personal items enshrined below them--children's toys, stacks of letters, folded clothing. Fresh flowers have been lain at each table too, their scent adding a softness to this secret chamber. 

Evelyn paces along the wall, carefully regarding each portrait before reaching one wall in particular which is dedicated to group paintings and sketches. As Tia's eyes skims their faces, the tightknit nature of these siblings are clearly portrayed. Meanwhile, Allen is rendered speechless for more than a minute, his tears flowing in wonder and grief. Despite his every attempt to remember his lost siblings, their faces had begun to fade in his memory. His eyes scour them now, determined to forever preserve their visage in his mind!

     "Are these...?" Tia nearly whispers and Allen nods wordlessly.

     "Why would you keep them here?" Allen finally manages to husk before regarding his mother.

He is shocked to spot tears running freely down her cheeks. Allen isn't sure he'd ever seen his mother 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.

Evelyn frowns in the same resentful manner Tia had earlier, catching Allen off guard.

     "You may have a keen mind, Allen," Evelyn declares, "But you've always been naive about those you admire. Your father wasn't half the man you believe he was!"

Evelyn steps beside Tia, studying drawings of two little boys, and a warm smile settles into place. In one painting, the boys are grinning at each other with jam-smeared faces.

    "Gloria enjoyed sketching and painting quite a bit, or any art really. This is Allen and Darrel—inseparable, mischievous gremlins!" Evelyn chuckles in appreciation, rubbing the the frame displaying the sketch.

     "And yet you still offered us up to the kingdom on a platter!" Allen accuses her bitterly.

     "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, "Darrell's humor, Gloria's consideration, Edmund's selflessness, Iris' protective nature..."

Allen regards the paintings of these four siblings who he had been closest to and his expression softens, this piece created just after Allen had been promoted to General.

Mischief plays on Darrell's lips as it often did for this jovial, open-hearted teen while Edmund is far more aloof and cynical. Stark opposites, Darrell had too gentle a heart to be a warrior while Edmund had remained in service long beyond what was required to watch after his younger siblings, loyal until the end. Gloria, ever charming, quiet and observant, offers her sister a knowing smile. Iris is far more brash and passionate with a hot temper. Tia had always reminded Allen of Iris long before taking up her disguise, both of them stubborn, altruistic and adventurous--the burning heart of both family and allies alike! 

     "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. You've had such a long day!"

Tia glances to her father with concern but he gives her a gentle wave, his eyes still stuck on the faces he never thought he'd glimpse again.

     "I'm sorry," Evelyn speaks softly as they turn, leaving the subject of her apology to his imagination, "Come here whenever you need to."

Tia and Evelyn make their way through the little door. Allen is silent as they disappear, losing himself in nostalgia and grief which spill out the instant he is alone.

Killer Technique

     "Alright, Tia," Allen looses a sigh, leading his daughter into the central garden, "I ought to show you at least the basics!"

     "The basics of what...?" Tia questions.

To Tia's surprise, a full-sized manaquin constructed of an unfamiliar material waits for them in the garden. She watches as her father places a small elemental crystal  into its chest, diagrams of major muscles and organs appearing across its surface. These patterns give off a dull glow. Allen looses a deep sigh as he places a hand on its familiar shoulder.

     "My techniques!" Allen claims in a popping tone, "There are more effective ways of using Beranok's Aura than just tossing lightning around wildly!"

      "Fine..." Tia mumbles as her face heats up, 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 explains, "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.

     "Small charges targeting specific muscles or organs," Allen responds, pointing to different diagrams on the mannequin as he explains, "Just enough to freeze up or contract muscles or 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 at her father, not grasping 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 by his ability to affect her movements without hurting her in the process, "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 and cause serious burns. But with practice, you can also project it."

Allen gestures with the same two finger motion, pointing to the other side of the garden. Once locked on with his keen yellow eyes, electricity connects very briefly to a flower. Tia looks with her own feline 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 versatile tool," Allen reasons, a tinge of amusement still sneaking into his tone, "But our eyes are one of our strongest assets, capable of lethally honing our precision. And while it can be fun to walk around fully manifested, opponents often underestimate you if you conceal your form and manifest only what you need!" to further his point, Allen manifests just his yellow hands and eyes, "I've... defeated many opponents with just this."

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

Allen impulsively grimaces and sighs, feeling the urge to craft a less ugly lie for his daughter. He wants to shield her from the ugliness of his past yet he knows this isn't what she needs anymore. He chokes down his protective urges, knowing Tia will face the same gruesome reality very soon.

     "...Yes," Allen husks reluctantly.

He sits on the fountain's edge and invites her over, patting its surface. Tia settles next to him and listens attentively.

     "I'm sorry I didn't train you sooner," Allen states plainly, no evasiveness or cheery facade--he wears his heart on his sleeve, "I had hoped you would never need any of this."

     "I know, dad," Tia states sympathetically, "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 it to master these techniques."

     "How long did it take you?" Tia prods and Allen's face goes taut.

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

     "Why not...?" Tia questions slowly.

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 grimly, his voice devoid of life, "As I demonstrated, you only need to manifest your eyes and hands. After years of... practice... I learned a human heartbeat follows a specific rhythm. If you can interrupt that rhythm at just the right moment..." he places his palm over the chest of the mannequin, "Their heart will stop."

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

     "This is an assassination technique," Allen drones plainly, "If you get it right, its a low energy tool to defeat almost any opponent. But without enchantments like these, you can only practice this on live targets. Failure will leave you vulnerable. If you find yourself in this position, I suggest a paralyzing charge, an even more powerful discharge in a pinch or retreating altogether!"

     "But," Tia speaks with hesitation, "H-how do you even know when to...?"

Allen gestures to his own neck, exposing his jugular to her.

     "Watch for my pulse," Allen instructs.

Switching back to her father's form, Tia focuses her vision and zooms in on his throat. She watches his skin rise and fall with each heartbeat.

      "Lock onto the rhythm," Allen instructs, "With practice, you'll know when to administer a shock to interrupt it. Watch..."

Allen turns back to the mannequin and lowers his body slightly. He holds his left hand just behind his back, his body positioned to block the target's line of sight from his hand. The marks on his hand glow just as brightly as his yellow eyes and Tia can see electricity crackling on his palm. Allen dashes forward abruptly, shoving the forearm of his right arm into the dummy, connecting his palm and his elbow to each of it's shoulders. Electricity connects at these two points before Allen plants his left palm onto the mannequin's chest unimpeded. 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, forceful and merciless. The illustration of the manequin's heart flashes twice before all light fades from its surface and the crystal fueling its enchantments shatters into nothing.

     "Your second arm can be used," Allen explains and gestures to his palm and elbow, "To keep a target from defending from the attack, locking up both of their arms. But it isn't always necessary as a simple palm strike can be difficult to defend against if they don't perceive the threat. Finding an opening is crucial."

Allen falls silent as his eyes catch on Tia, peering down at her own hands as a frown weighs down her lips. As this silence lingers, she finally meets his gaze with a pained expression.

     "I'm... I'm really going to have to kill people...?" Tia questions on a timorous breath. She hadn't even begun to consider this impending reality.

Allen squeezes his eyes shut and grimaces as though her own pained expression were contagious, lamenting that her innocence couldn't be preserved any longer. Tia's face hollows out into an empty expression, falling into contemplation.

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

     "Them?" Allen echoes, Tia's face falling into a scowl weighed down by resent.

     "Hiroto, Asahi, Kenji, Junichiro, Seina," Tia lists with a quivering voice, fisting her hands in her lap, "And Ben!" she spits, her rancour apparent, "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... it isn't wrong for you to hate them, to resent them," the softness of Allen's tone makes Tia wince, his eyes drifting to her hair, but as she meets his eyes she finds only concern, "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 terrifies me and I hate it! My body was burned and torn, my bones broken and battered," Tia spits and trembles at the memory, "I-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 deep breath breath and lets his shoulders drop, his grip loosening,

"We can't hurt or kill everyone who wrongs us. I've taken so many lives, Tia," Allen imparts and she can see the regret painting his face, "I don't want you to carry that same burden. Besides, these people have taken enough from you already," concern spills into his eyes, "They don't deserve to take more from you with the consequences of revenge. But most of all, its important not to lose yourself to resent--never let it consume you!"

Tia mulls over his words, a frown lingering as she sn't quite satisfied with his answer, but she is unable to express herself properly. She looks to Duff instead, lurking beneath the bushes and stalking after birds in the form of a cat. This had become his favorite form within the manor grounds.

   "I guess these kinds of things are easier for you?" Tia questions, watching him stretch as he emerges from the shadows. He halts at her feet, twisting his head and peering up at them as if he hadn't already been listening in.

   'I could kill the twit for you, if you'd like,' Duff offers casually, his words drenched in delight, 'Disappearing in the night... 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.