Exception

Allen waits in the central garden of the castle. Flowers sprout neatly between alabaster stones, illuminated gently by starlit streams and waterfalls. These celestial waters fall from a higher floor of the castle, the largest source cascading into a pool at the center of the garden guided by crystalline aquifers. Like most decorative features of the castle, these structures were crafted from syltharian crystal, possessing the same ethereal glow as the water. Songbirds flit about and colorful fish circle in the pond. There are cushioned benches lining the walkways but Allen achingly refrains out of respect. He lingers instead at the water's edge throwing pellets in for the fish, which lay in bowls nearby.

  "His majesty, King Ambrose Syltharis!" a servant announces and Allen stiffens, whipping around.

Ambrose approaches Allen at his own pace and Allen bows for the appropriate duration. The motion, once so familiar, had become another ghost of the life he left behind. 

     "It has been a long time, Allen," Ambrose greets him in a somber tone and offers a subtle smile. 

Allen holds out a hand to shake and Ambrose surprises Allen by grabbing him by the elbow with a grin and a laugh. The gesture seems to relax Allen well enough and he smiles back at Ambrose, trying poorly to hide his apparent exhaustion. 

    "You look terrible!" Ambrose chuckles.

Despite this, Ambrose finds himself relieved that Allen has found his smile again.

     "It's been... an eventful journey," Allen admits with a sigh, "But I see the years have treated you well!"

Ambrose faces the water, eying his own reflection.

     "A benefit of having so many capable mages at my disposal," Ambrose states yet his eyes scathe his own image. He lets Allen shuffle in place to his silence, "A lot has changed since you left," Ambrose states simplistically, turning back to Allen, "While it is a pleasure to have you back in my court, this is very sudden. You spoke of some minor troubles in your last report but nothing which could explain your return now?"

     "We had to leave very suddenly," Allen explains, a sigh escaping his lungs, "It's bad I'm afraid. Delegations had been progressing as planned but their own internal affairs have descended into civil unrest. My..." Allen hesitates instinctively but reminds himself he cannot conceal her any longer, pinching his eyes shut, "My family and I barely escaped."

Ambrose maintains a nearly neutral expression despite the surprising news.

     "I can see you are exhausted," Ambrose replies carefully, tossing pellets to the fish as they speak, "You can give a more detailed report later. A summation is acceptable, for now."

     "As you know, Emperor Mikoto is young and his regent grossly incompetent," Allen explains and Ambrose acknowledges his familiarity, "Daimyo had been squabbling over territories and consolidating power. One in particular has swept his influence across the archipelago. The emperor was set to come of age soon and this daimyo pressured him to formally recognize his conquests and position. When the boy refused... there was an assasination attempt." 

A silence lingers between them as they eye the water, watching fish gobble up the pellets.

     "Were they successful?" Ambrose questions simply.

     "No," Allen responds, a bit of relief sneaking into his tone, "The emperor had arranged a decoy, passing himself off as a playmate."

     "Clever child," Ambrose comments. 

   "Yes," Allen agrees, "The public outcry was intense. Nippon worships their emperor as divine, descended from their goddess."

     "You believe this intentional?" Ambrose questions with a raised brow, his interest piqued, "It doesn't sound like a tactic his regent would formulate. Did the boy plan it himself?"

     "From what I've heard, I believe so," Allen confirms, impressed by the boy himself, "When the attempt was traced back to him, most other daimyo rallied behind the emperor and the common people demanded him to step down. He made one last effort to salvage his power. He initiated a coup, raiding the capital and storming the royal palace to capture and exert control over the emperor."

Ambrose watches Allen as he pinches the bridge of his nose, recalling the chaotic night.

     "No one ever imagined an attack on the palace," Allen explains, "They managed to evacuate the emperor and, thanks to an ally, my family and I were able to escape as well but the palace was lost. Mikoto and his supporters have gone into hiding and, with his coup otherwise successful, the aggressor took the palace for himself. I assume civil unrest or possibly even war broke out after our departure."

     "You made the right call, then," Ambrose answers after considering the situation, "We'll need to wait and see how things play out, perhaps offer aid... I'll send less valuable agents to keep an eye on things," Allen nods in agreement and Ambrose looks him over, "Tell me about your family then."

Ambrose watches Allen carefully as he stiffens and attempts to mask his anxiety.

     "Has Martin had a chance to speak to you about our journey?" Allen redirects, earning a hint of an appreciative smile.

     "Yes, it was fortunate I sent him," Ambrose's tone is careful and exact, "He mentioned there was an accident?"

     "Yes," Allen croaks, pain wrinkling his expression, "My wife didn't make the journey."

Ambrose nods but both men knew he was aware of every detail of their journey, including Mina's escape, despite Martin's suggestion otherwise. Allen had already assumed this was the case, perfectly aware of Martin's unquestioning loyalty.

     "While I'm... disappointed you bypassed tradition, marrying a foreign woman in secret..." Ambrose conveys in a low tone.

He watches Allen's steady expression from the corner of his eye before sighing and waving dismissively. Allen's shoulders drop at the gesture.

     "I will overlook it, given your loss. It is a shame," Ambrose continues with an artificial sympathy, "Martin tells me she was quite the beauty and suitably eloquent for the position. Besides, knowing you it was a tactical marriage?"

     "Mina was a member of an influential family, yes, with strong ties to the late emperor," Allen admits wistfully, "That is how we met. But it would be a lie to say that's why I married her."

     "I see," Ambrose hums, empathy for an old friend slipping through his defenses, "I am sorry, then. It sounds as though she may have made an appropriate addition to your House. I've come to value these kinds of alliances even more these days."

Allen can only nod in response, staring numbly into the water. Ambrose turns and gestures for Allen to follow him.

     "It is good to hear she at least provided you with an heir?" Ambrose inquires.

     "Tia," Allen breathes her name almost as a mantra, joy returning to his face, "Not as graceful as her mother, but she has a powerful spirit under the surface. A true Minx!" 

     "And she's inherited your kaithur? Your mother must be thrilled!" Ambrose states and Allen's smile falters.

     "Yes, although... she has barely used it before now," Allen admits tentatively, "Due to local traditions and my time spent at court."

     "I see," Ambrose's demeanor coldens as his tone deepens. He doesn't hide his dissatisfaction when he stops abruptly, turning to Allen, "Well, now that she is home, that can be corrected."

There is a gruesome silence and Allen's dread consumes him, stealing his breath.

     "How old is she?" Ambrose asks the dreaded question, his words heavy.

Allen can't help but hesitate and Ambrose can see him consider deception.

   "Sixteen," Allen admits, almost inaudibly, "But I hoped perhaps-" Allen falters at Ambrose's cold, almost alien expression, "She hasn't had any training, magical or martial. Surely she would be of better use to the kingdom with some time to catch up?"

     "Tell me," Ambrose's sigh is impatient and he folds his hands behind his back, "When our common citizen tells me their child isn't fit to serve, that they 'aren't a fighter' or 'aren't strong enough', do we give them more time?"

     "No," Allen husks and struggles to respond, "But... given the value and position of my family, our history, I had hoped for an exception? She is the only heir to the Minx line. If she were to die...!" Ambrose maintains his intimidating leer as Allen scrounges for the right words for his plea in genuine distress, "Given the efforts my family has put into our House, our sacrifices."

Allen's voice breaks and Ambrose flinches, squeezing his eyes shut. Sympathy and nostalgia tug at him, memories of their youth and Allen's losses playing through his mind--both of their losses. Ambrose nearly relents... until Ghislaine's prophecy springs into his mind. The smallest possibility that Allen's daughter is the one he searches for centers in his mind, flushing away every other consideration and solidifying his resolve.

     "I understand what your family has given to this kingdom," Ambrose responds in recognition, "All of us in the capital understand that burden. It would be a disservice to those we've sacrificed to make an exception now, for ourselves. Even my own son..."

Ambrose gestures to one of the windows overlooking the garden, in the library, where a silhouette of a young man can be seen in the window.

     "Will be recruited in the next rotation. You must understand," Ambrose denotes gravely, "What I expect of every citizen must be unilateral! I make no exceptions."

     "But-" Allen growls, his anger slipping through, but Ambrose's empirical frown silences him. He realizes his king is far more calloused than the friend he left behind.

      "If you haven't prepared your child for service," Ambrose rebukes him, merciless and judgemental, "It is your own failure."

Ambrose can see fury rise in Allen momentarily but Allen skillfully suppresses it, detachment taking anger's place. Allen remains silent, bowing his head to signal compliance.

    "How long does she have until the next rotation?" Allen questions, his voice powerless. Ambrose raises a hand, signaling for an attendant.

     "How long until the procession arrives?" Ambrose inquires.

    "They are set to arrive in four weeks, your majesty," his staff replies, "Assessments are in three weeks."

Color drains from Allen's face as Ambrose waves them off.

    "Four weeks then," Ambrose reiterates, taking no joy in the answer. He observes Allen's panicked expression and sighs, "I'll make sure your family has priority for tutors."

    "Thank you," Allen speaks with a far off tone and expression. His exhaustion, which had already been visible, seems to double all at once.

     "Go and rest," Ambrose drones, turning away from Allen. He pauses, pity cutting through his apathy, "Spend some time with your daughter."

Tia's Future

Gentle beams of sunlight filter in past fluttering curtains as a stray breeze cuts through the room. Allen grumbles, rolling over in the bed and reaching over to the other side with a tapping motion. His fingertips meet with the haunting vacancy beside him, a space more than a decade of habit has left him repeating. He lays there, breath frozen in his chest, and his hand fists over the empty sheets. The silence in the room permeates him and he feels tears break over his cheeks.

Allen gasps, cupping both of his eyes and pressing his palms into his sockets as if to hold the tears inside but this does nothing to stall his emotions. He pops up abruptly, making his way to the window and running his hands through his hair as the wind brushes over his wetted face. There are no clouds today and he can see clear to the southern mountain range in the crisp spring air. He wonders if Mina was still somewhere within those forests or if she had travelled even further from him, from them.

Some time later, Allen trudges his way downstairs, unhappy to find his mother waiting for him. He grumbles a nearly inaudible greeting and sits in an armchair by the fireplace. At his gesture a servant scurries away to bring him his breakfast. She waits, lips pursed, and lingers by the balcony doors. Allen waits until he has tea clasped in his hands to speak with her.

     "Go on," Allen grumbles, "What is it?"

Evelyn scoffs.

     "Tell me," Evelyn speaks bitterly and slowly, "Would you say you care about your daughter's welfare?"

Allen places his cup down with a clatter, cracking off the handle. He clenches his jaw and sighs through his nose.

     "I don't expect you to be able to recognize parental protection," Allen spits, acid lacing his every word, "Everything I do is for my daughter!" 

   "You've protected her from nothing!" Evelyn accuses him, spinning around and glowering with heat in her eyes, "You're coddling has left her grossly unprepared! She can't fly, she doesn't understand magic, she can't wield a weapon and She is wholly unfamiliar with Accian society or tradition!"

She paces the room, gesturing with each distinction.

    "How in Luxis' name do you expect her to survive service Allen?!" he glares past her, seemingly uninterested in her complaints, "What kind of parent-"

     "Who are you to criticize!" Allen snaps, raising his voice, "How many of my siblings did you send off to die? Or do you even remember them?"

Evelyn's eyes glow with a hidden fire, orange markings fluttering across her body and consuming her like a wildfire as she seethes. She digs her nails into the upholstery of the seat across from Allen as tears begin to form in her eyes, little embers burning them away and lingering about her eyes as she bears her fangs. Just as quickly as her anger came over her, Evelyn gasps and a seemingly misplaced fear washes over her. She turns away in intense shame, fighting to compose herself. Evelyn opens the balcony doors and lets the wind cool her face. She runs claws through her hair like a comb, a mannerism the two of them share, and breathes deeply. The orange fades from her skin before she turns back to him, equipped with a flat expression.

   "I could never forget a single one of my children," Evelyn answers with a surprisingly gentle but empty tone, "I did everything possible to prepare each and every one of them."

She falls into a fragile silence, staring out at the clear horizon. 

   "Our world is cruel, Allen. No parent can protect their child forever!" she glances back to him, her voice growing firm, "All we can do is prepare them for that cruelty, something you have utterly failed to do for Tia. That sweet girl is as innocent as a child!"

    "As far as I was concerned," Allen claims with the same firmness, "She was never going to face that same cruelty you cast us into! Nippon doesn't share the same barbaric customs."

     "They were barbaric enough to send you scrambling home," Evelyn scoffs, "There is no escaping enlistment!" she states slowly and clearly, "No matter where you stashed her she would always find her way home!"

     "If I had it my way," Allen grates, his resent apparent, "She would've never stepped foot in this place, let alone Accia at all!" 

     "You would keep her from her family?" Evelyn gasps. 

    "This isn't a family," Allen denies, apathetic, "You mill out children to be soldiers, handing them away to maintain your position!"

They glare at each other in silence until Evelyn breaks away, a discontented frown tightening her face.

     "You can criticize my choices, if that pleases you, but you wouldn't have survived without the training I was able to provide you!" she sighs and pinches her brow, "And none of our bickering is going to change Tia's future, Allen. Inevitably, she will be enlisted, she will train and she will go to war!"

Allen clicks his tongue and looks away.

   "What's your solution then?" Allen asks after some consideration.

     "We use every resource we can muster, everything available to us, to catch her up," Evelyn states emphatically, "And we pray it's enough!" his eyes remain locked on the floor and she sighs, "I'll make the arrangements. How much time does she have?"

Evelyn is concerned immediately by his hesitation.

     "Three weeks," Allen answers her reluctantly, "Assessments are in three weeks."

     "She's sixteen?!" Evelyn exclaims.

He refuses to meet her gaze, turning his face away.

     "Ambrose refused my request," Allen explains in an unsteady tone, his exhaustion from fretting over the topic apparent, "He granted us priority but no extension."

Evelyn fumes silently, tightening her posture gradually.

     "There isn't time for your hesitation!" Evelyn accuses him again, scrutinizing her son intensely, "You haven't even told her, have you?"

He doesn't respond.

     "Allen!" Evelyn scoffs, "You're 'protection' hurts her more than anything else!"

     "She just lost her mother!" Allen shouts, breaking his silence and disarming Evelyn, "I… just lost her."

Allen's voice withers, his anger dropping away into sorrow.

     "Tia won't even talk about what happened that night...!" Allen wisps, finding himself staring towards her chambers, "Mina..." he breathes her name and buries his face in his hands, "They were so close." 

Evelyn deflates too, taking a seat across from him and studying Allen.

     "Why are you so reluctant to tell her?" Evelyn questions, her tone far gentler than before, "You're hardly daft."

      "I-" Allen struggles with the words, "Mina left us after I told her what to expect. About the war and Tia's impending enlistment. About the imprint placed on me."

   "Oh…" Evelyn peeps before her tone spikes, struggling to restrain her anger towards this unknown woman, "I see."

     "She was so scared," Allen explains, barely audible, "I thought she was scared for Tia... and... maybe she was. I don't know, she wouldn't talk to me! And now she's gone," Allen speaks in a small voice, conflicting emotions passing over his face, "We don't even know if she's- I-I can't lose Tia too."

     "I can't speak for your wife," Evelyn begins with a sour tone and can see Allen's irritation already, "But in the little time I've spent with Tia, she has already shown resiliency and spirit."

     "I know how she is," Allen barks, "I'm her father! She deserves some ounce of normalcy before everything changes again."

     "She deserves the chance to prepare for what's coming too." Evelyn reasons and Allen groans.

     "Fine," Allen concedes, "At least... At least let me be the one to tell her."

     "Fine," Evelyn sighs deeply but nods to him with a tight frown, rising to her feet, "I'll arrange the tutors. Why don't you uh...." she spins her hand in thought, "Take her to a concert or a museum or something in the meantime."

Allen watches her go before rising. As he makes his way out of the hall, a small black mouse skitters along the wall.

Tia's eyes shine as they exit the concert hall and Allen soaks up her laughter

     "I had no idea something like that existed!" Tia exclaims, "Or thought they could use magic that way!"

     "I thought you might like it," Allen chuckles.

    "It was so beautiful! Fire and colors and water, bursting and dancing to match the music..." Tia laughs, "I think the people back home would keel over if they saw something like that...! What?"

Tia falls silent as she catches her father staring at her and sighing.

     "I don't know if I'll ever get used to your new look!" Allen admits, ruffling her hair and pinching the tip of her feline ear, "Mother has you hooked already."

    "I dunno," Tia answers, swatting away his fingers, "I like being able to walk around like this. Its exciting! Well..." Tia glances at passerby, gawking at them and whispering as they go, "Except for that."

     "Well then," Allen responds playfully, "I suppose we may as well match!"

Tia gasps, watching him shift. She had never once seen him transform fully. His wings are a steely slate, rather than brown, as are his ears and the furry sideburns which puff down his cheeks. Like Tia, streaks of yellow zig-zag across his body, most focused on his hands. He offers an arm to her with a wink and a charming grin, one wing extending in the opposite direction and his sharp yellow eyes shining. Tia beams in response and hooks her arm into his. 

     "Now, let's see if my favorite restaurant is still here!" Allen sighs and pulls her down the street. 

They sit at a table on a patio adjacent to the restaurant and tuck away their wings. A few passerby still stare, mostly whispering her father's name as they go.

    "It was rough getting here," Tia admits breathily, stirring her drink, "And I don't really like all of these... pretentious people. But it's not so bad here. I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time!" Allen forces a smile but Tia sees through it, "What?"

     "It comes at a steep price," Allen admits, his wistful tone surprising Tia. He regards his daughter and laughs, "But I don't think a single force in this world could douse your spark!"

Tia giggles as he rolls a ball of electricity over his fingers like a coin.

     "I meant to ask," Tia cuts in, "Why wasn't um... baa-chan... Still getting used to that" Tia titters, "She wasn't able to join us today?"

     "Well..." Allen hums in response, "She wanted to hire a few tutors for you."

     "Tutors?" Tia echoes.

     "She is unsatisfied with how I raised you," Allen divulges and Tia furrows her brows.

     "Why are you two so terrible to each other?" Tia asks. 

Allen looks into his own drink and ruminates.

   "We haven't had a good relationship since I was a boy," Allen explains, "I've had many responsibilities throughout my life and she isn't satisfied with how I've addressed them—not after I retired from the military."

Tia listens to her father with a stern expression, still displeased with their squabbling.

     "But don't you worry about that, snowdrop!" Allen reassures her.

     "It just feels weird," tia grumbles, "She's so nice to me but so mean to you!"

     "I don't know why," Allen muses, "But the meanest parents are always the sweetest grandparents!"

He laughs but Tia rolls her eyes.

    "Either way," Allen continues with a wry smile, "She doesn't feel I prepared you for life here—and I'll give her that at least. She's hiring a few tutors to catch you up."

     "I do feel a bit lost here..." Tia breathes, looking out at the pearly plaza, "Sometimes a lot lost. What kind of tutors are they...?"

     "She named a number of subjects she wanted you to learn," Allen answers, a sly smy pulling at his lips, amused by her grimace, "Politics, etiquette, history... but also flight, magic, swordplay, Aura use to name a few!"

     "I get to learn how to fight and use magic??" Tia blurts, beaming instantly. Allen can't help but grin into her excitement.

     "It's going to be a bit exhausting but..." Allen hesitates, examining her thrilled expression.

He had intended to mention her impending service but chokes on his words, not wanting to ruin her excitement.

     "After that bandit attack," he redirects, "And a number of other dangers out there, you ought to learn how to defend yourself."

Allen watches Tia practically bounce in place. Duff leers at him in the form of a snake from under her cloak, making Allen nearly jump out of his seat. Duff is attempting to give Allen a judgmental leer for his continued hesitation but this expression is impossible to convey in his serpentine form.

     "Oh!" Tia gasps, glancing down at Duff, "I guess you to haven't met yet."

Tia gives Allen an apologetic, forced smile. Duff ominously slides back into her clothing while holding Allen's gaze and fading into shadow, further unsettling him. Tia glances around to make sure no one else has spotted him and Allen stares blankly where Duff had shown himself, palm over his pounding heart.

     "I'll introduce you two when we get back," Tia whispers, "His name is Duff!"

     "Is he...?" Allen husks, trying to settle back down.

Tia nods to him. But suddenly, their food arrives and Allen is thankful for the distraction.