In the times that ribs ache, sweat rolls down her face burning her eyes, and lungs fight for the next breath that never seems promised; her body screams in protest to remain down and all she wishes is to listen. These are the moments she must have heard her father's voice say, "Girl, you know better than that." When she sees his stern eyes gazing down at her with the silent question ringing behind them, "Why must you always learn the hard way?" A good man but a terrible father that always made her fight even if it wasn't always right. So despite the lack of belief that she could, she somehow always did. There must have been something methodic of being beaten down by a man you love. She's back on her feet ignoring the way her arms tremble, raising her busted fists to her face. Yet it is not her father's whiskey eyes she sees waiting but the frowned lilac eyes of a man so similar yet different. The result is the same and the fire ignites.

He looks away from the beaten girl as if the sight of her state is too much to even witness because to him it is, "That's enough."

"No." The raspy voice sounds disgustingly haggard to both their ears. "One more."

He rubs his eyes giving an exaggerated sigh, "There you go again. You said that last time besides you did more than enough today."

"No, I didn't. You fight until you can't get back up and I can. Again." The blooded girl straightens her frame standing taller, refusing to let any discomfort show. The silver-haired boy internally cringes at the evident abused figure of his little sister, ready to reassure her of her standing once more, but he moves too slow. Already seeing the no forming on his lips the younger girl gave him no chance to say otherwise as she moves against him. Her pathetic punch is easily sidestepped and before she can think of the next move he has her arm bend behind her back, his grip on her shoulder the only thing keeping her from meeting the ground.

"I said no." His tone is sharp but his grip slackens giving her no option but to jab an elbow into his abdomen pushing him back while simultaneously twisting her foot behind his leg taking both of them down to the ground. Without a second to spare the silver-haired girl is on him with a knee on his hip, the other on his thigh, and her small vicious hand pressing down on his immobilizing nerve between his neck and shoulder.

Her matching violet eyes glare down at the unmoving man as he refuses to counteract her. "Fight back." She spits out to no effect. "I can clearly stand so fight!" The tired young man doesn't even bother with words, his only reply is a low sigh; he is at a loss with his little sister, a problem he has never quite had with any of his sisters but yet again none of them were such an unfortunate case. Now glaring on top of him, he sees the desperate, and confused eyes of a broken child he was never meant to have met, and yet despite the odds stacked against her she somehow survived. The problem is she doesn't know why and he doesn't have the answer. All he can do is hope she finds the right one.

"In the Creed training, you fight until you can't. You always assure me of my place in this family but you refuse to train me like one. To treat me like one. You're denying me my blood right, Mikhail. Have I not been denied it enough." The volume of her voice had steadily decreased along with her anger; she had not meant her bitter last words to be spoken out yet its presence weighed into the room.

Neither knew what to say next and she now refused to meet his eyes. He doesn't know if he should reach out and touch her to comfort or hit her like she seems to think she needs. Luckily, she makes the choice for him, releasing him just as he was about to reach out. She felt pathetic, everything she did felt like a poor imitation of who she is or at least was supposed to be. She was a fraud and this wasn't her family. None of this felt right.

"Diana."

That name did feel right but not the voice uttering it. Of course, it should be familiar to a degree since she met him a couple months ago but the feeling is there. She shouldn't be here.

"Diana."

Yes, Diana, that is who she is but not his Diana.

~ The soft velvet petal lays against her chest as she rubs its delicate petal between fingers changing it into a tight pressed roll, its juices falling onto her bare chest. "Diana, call me Diana." The firm warm chest behind her vibrates with his thoughtful hum. "Divine, it suits you a lot better than lily." ~

"Hey, are you okay?"

Like a hook his voice brings her back to her present. The fleeting moment dispersing too quickly that all it leaves in its wake is a blank mind of missing time. "Uh, oh yeah I'm good."

He didn't look a bit convinced. When did he get up? Diana thought as the tall man stepped closer to her leaving a comfortable distance, "Come here so I can heal you." His soft voice commanded her, she found it amusing at times how he would let the authoritative tone seep into his voice when she knows he tries so hard to hold a clear distinction between his rank as a general and his role as a brother. Yet the moment was lost and Diana no longer wanted to be in the presence of her superior, not when she will never be given a chance to rise above him or even dream of reaching his feet.

"Thanks but I think I'll just go to the Keeper." She tries to give a smile yet to Mikkhail's trained eyes she could never fool, though he knew his comrades would be a different story but of course he would never tell her that. It isn't till his sister begins walking towards the exit of the training room with great effort to keep from limping that her words finally seem to process as he had been too busy analyzing her to actually listen.

"What?" Mikkhail questions dumbfounded; he must have heard wrong. He silently curses himself for letting his guard down. "You don't go to the Keeper for basic healing." He quickly adds on hoping he did in fact mishear but making sure to clarify something that is an unconscious understanding to those raised among the Zoldyck Clan.

Diana didn't bother straining herself further to actually face him or give him much of a response aside from a simple, "Oh." Well what exactly did he expect her to say when that is exactly what she had been doing. So far the Keeper did not seem to complain and it isn't like Ciel Quarters of Zoldyck Providence, they had her confined to, had a healer. Plus he had been her only constant source of human interaction for an entire year, that is of course if he even counts as human. From her brother's distressed reaction that seems to be up for debate.

"Wait, are you telling me that's what you've been doing?" He walked closer to her, ridding them of the space she had created while moving his hands around attempting to fathom the magnitude of her actions.

"Yeah kinda." Diana replied, her voice lacking any sort of emotion coming off as bored to Mikkhail. Not going to lie Diana found his reaction kind of weird and a little too much. He must have hit his head harder than she thought.

"Diana, one does not simply go to the most important figure of our Creed for something as trivial as a fracture." He attempted to keep his volume under wraps but his voice rang in the wide hall causing Diana to waver. He had never raised his voice at her and Diana was taken back.

One thing is clear in her chaotic mind and that is that she can not be alone with him if he was going to keep acting like this.

Much to her silent horror she lets out a scoff, apparently her attitude not getting the memo. I mean he was starting to get real disrespectful, kicking up a storm and for what? "Slow your roll there, hun it's not like I'm holding a steak knife to the guy and if I'm being honest you are acting about a card short of a full deck right now, Mikkhail. I reckon I did you a real good one on ya huh. Say how bout we both see the Keeper? Dont really trust you with a wand right now." Diana's light playful tease didn't hold out towards the end, it was the uncertainty in her statement that made Mikkhail pause and take in her tense frame and the slight shift of her footing into a defensive stance. It was something she had always done from the moment they met but that Mikkhail had constantly worked on to make her comfortable around him even if he suspected she never really noticed the change in body language, just like now.

He brings his hands done to his side and breathes deeply before patiently explaining, "Look, Domina Diana Peresfone Zoldyck," He continues ignoring her full body cringe that would have looked more like a slight twitch to others, "The Keeper is one of the Three Pillars of the Creed there has been no other before them and there will be no other after them. It is not a position, they are a timeless being that has existed since before the formation of the Creed and will exist way after we are gone. The Keeper walks among Omma, our mother and creator. The Genetrix of which our foundation was set to protect, guide, and nurture as she does to us. I know you were raised as a Mundane so it's hard for you to understand, essentially the Keeper is- you were raised Christain right?"

"Catholic."

"It's basically the same thing."

"It's really not." Diana replies flatley giving him a look to match.

Mikkhail would have rolled his eyes had he not been cursed as a teen by his twin so now every time he does roll them he quite literally gets a needle through an eye. He settled for running a hand through his hair. "Their both Christanity following the same God. It's the same potion different labels. Look the inference I am making is that the Keeper is what the Archangels are to God and humans. Omma is our God and the humans are the Drakøn, us."

Diana gives him a long thoughtful look and for a moment Mikkhail was hopeful enough to think he had finally gotten somewhere with her. "So shoot me if I'm wrong, but Omma doesn't give a rat's ass about us." Turns out he was actually naive.

The exasperated brother physically felt himself age a decade. With a breathless laugh, he can't help but express an exclamation of disbelief. "Divine Bringer of Destruction, is that truly what you believe of the Christian God?!"

"That's what I think of all Gods, goddesses, creators, or whatever's out there. " The bored teenager before him shrugs her shoulders unbothered as if she had just been asked about tomorrow's weather.

Diana watches the man she hadn't really pegged for religious blink repeated with deep frown brows and a slightly gaping mouth attempting to formulate anything making him look more like a fish. Dear Lord, she thinks she's broken him, what a shame. "Did you not just say earlier you were Catholic." Nope, apparently not, guess she'll just have to try harder.

"I am Catholic but I never said I was religious. Hold up, rewind, don't y'all have a commandment about taking like the Lords or like Mother's name in vain?" She feels her lips rising to form a grin, finding both of her responses funny.

"That is not Mother's name, she has many names but I assure you Divine Mother of Destruction is not one. Don't try to change the subject again," Again? Diana tries to think back on what they had originally been talking about but draws up blank. She actually can't even recall what she had just been talking about now. Fortunately, she manages to zone back into their conversation with impeccable timing as he states, "how can my adorable little sister think so cruelly and be so spiteful towards our creator?"

"First off I'm not spiteful. I just believe that they don't - uh - well it's very self-centered of us - okay um - what I'm trying to say is - I honestly don't know how to sugarcoat this so Imma just rip the band-aid off. We are not as important to them as we like to believe. A creator doesn't equal the big three O's or even one. "

Talking to Diana was odd at times actually more instances than not as she would often speak in idioms, metaphors, proverbs, or similes that never made any sense. Some he suspected were mundane and others were undoubtedly southern but most he couldn't even comprehend with context much less decipher their origin. At times he would be left wondering if something she said was a saying or she was actually serious; This was one of those times, his little sister would say he was blindly shooting and hoping to land. "They created us. Of course, they care."

"Who's to say they didn't make more. Why stop with us?" And here she goes onto a whole new topic, she truly has a gift of disorienting (distracting) Mikkail to the point of confusion and a surprising mix of admiration with her thinking process. He tries to bring the conversation back in on her initial shocking statement. "Doubt and lack of faith cloud your judgment, dear sister."

The young girl replies with a honey sweet smile, he didn't expect to witness, full of a similar warmth and adoration that someone gives to a baby or puppy. "Ignorance and blind faith clouds yours, pumpkin." She answers in a similar airy well-meaning tone as him, her slight southern accent escaping into her words adding heavily to its initial effect. Mikkhail has to applaud her, her natural strength in deception would make her a great politician, he makes a mental note to mention it to his twin.

"Well, I'd love to stay and chat but you gonna have to let me go, hun. I'd rather not keep fractured bones for too long."

"Oh yes, forgive me I've been inconsiderate."

Diana watches with no little ounce of measure of amusement as her brother's tan cheeks flare red and decide to fan the fires. "Not to worry, pumpkin. Tis but a scratch. I'm sure I won't be the last person you leave too banged up. Now go and rest up before you gotta leave. You don't want to show up with the troops lookin like you've been rode hard and put up wet."

He throws his head back letting out a booming laugh before stifling it down. "I'd rather show up looking like whatever the hell you just said than allow you to go to the Keeper with my knowledge, love." Love. He had started picking up her speaking manner in throwing words of endearment in, Diana noted a bit too pleased with herself.

"Now don't go throwing no hissy fit again. This ain't my first redo and I can probably tell you won't be my last."

"I can count on two hands how many times I've been in close proximity to the keeper and on one the moments I got to speak to him. I can count on none how many times he's personally healed me and I can tell you I almost died in a training accident but no one wanted to wake the Keeper from his nap, me included."

Rather than having the dawning effect, he told his story for the purpose of, the mundane raised girl let out a low whistle, "We'll I'll be damn if it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it's probably a duck. Mikkhail, sweetheart, all that tells me, is that you're making him out to be a little too big for his britches and he ain't like that. Secondly, you seem to have really bad social anxiety when it comes to meeting your idols and I actually know a great author that can help you. His name is Patrick King. Highly recommend him. And last but certainly not least, the Creed has truly shown me that you don't have to hang from a tree to be a nut. It probably explains more about me than I'm willing to admit now that I'm being honest. Actually, sometimes I don't feel or even know if I'm-"

"Awake or dreaming? Though I imagine that has something to do with the concussion or internal bleeding. You do seem to get hurt frequently, little one."

"Keeper! Please forgive me and my sister's insolence. She knows not our ways, foreign to our costumes, and alien to our beliefs. I beseech you to judge me in her place."

Diana stared dumbly at her brother's kneeling frame and bowed head. What the fuck. She covers her mouth with her hand and quickly looks away. Her eyes land on the Leo which was a huge mistake. His wide eyes and flustered face are a clear contrast against his pale skin and usual resting bitch face. Her hands painfully pressed against her mouth aren't enough to hold in her laughter, her lungs burning and eyes prickling with tears. Leo, who had been trying to look at anywhere but the kneeling man at his feet, glares at Diana whose muffled laughter is painfully oblivious in the silent hall. She didn't want to be ugly even after her brother said such backhanded pleas about her on her behalf but she knows they were of good intention. Come on, he was willing to be punished in her place. Though if she's being frank she wouldn't mind a punishment from the Keeper. Maybe it'd mellow out all his pent-up angst that made him seem more like an angsty teenager than the actual billion-year-old fuck he was.

Her brother's voice brings her from out her thoughts. "Sister, please weep not." Apparently, her laughter wasn't as obvious.

Leo, having managed to formulate his composure scowled a little at Diana's pleased expression. "Little one, if you'd please wait outside."

Wishing to see the show Diana is ready to contest him though another glare from him gives her pause. He lifts his hand his index finger pointing upwards in her general direction. Now, this causes Diana to freeze, small horror blooming within her. She fights it up instinctively and looks up at his face. The familiar hard stare of her father giving her the look. Now it's a cold petrifying fear that floods her system. Her mouth felt dry as all warmth left her body, her blood having instantly drained from her face.

~

"What did I tell you, Diana?"

"Not to go on the rocks while holding, Milo."

"Why?"

"Cause I would fall and he'll get hurt."

"And what did you do?"

"I went on the rocks and now Milo's hurt. I'm sorry, pa. I'm so sorry."

"Come here. Don't cry." His voice was hard and angry, growing impatient with her hesitant steps he grabbed her pulling her to where the crumbled form of her best friend struggled. He laid there unmoving with open eyes, she would have thought him dead had it not been for the rapid moving chest of his breathing. Her dad pulled her closer making her take a knee beside him.

"You see the angle of its neck. It's broken."

She let out a gasp of horror. Despite being only six she knew that was bad. "What can we do?!"

"Be merciful." He got up leaving her to watch her best friend fighting to survive in front of her alone. "Estas bien, Milo. Daddy's gonna help you. He's just grabbing the first aid kit and you're gonna be okay. I promise. I promise I'll fix this. I promise."

The tall frame of her father came back into view, too relieved in seeing him, the distressed small child fail to notice the lack of red box, much less take note of the gleaming ax in hand. Instead, she continued whispering empty reassurances to her dying friend.

"Take it, Diana."

"Para qué es eso, papi? (But what is that for, daddy?)

"Diana take it."

"No you promised you would help Milo."

"No seas mentirosa. Yo nunca prometí eso." (Do not be a liar. I never promised that.)

"I don't understand why you can't help Milo. He's my best friend I love him."

"You should have thought about that earlier but you didn't now look at where your love has brought us."

"It was an accident. It was an accident. Nooo! It wasn't my fault I didn't mean to! I didn't mean to!"

"I said stop crying." At his command, she stuffed down her sobs the best she could so that they became sporadic hiccups and loud snuffles. "Now take the axe and let this be your last act of love towards it."

"I don't want to, daddy! Please don't make me!"

"You are selfish, Diana. What you had for this animal was not love but possession. It was ownership and it is replaceable. You condemned this poor animal to death because you failed to take care of what's yours."

"Diana. Look at me. If you leave this animal to die here it will suffer for hours and eventually suffocate, slowly and painfully. That is if a bird or fox doesn't get to it first then its last moment will just be bloody. It doesn't matter because it will die terrified, Diana. Look at the way it trembles. It's terrified. I said look at it, Diana!"

Reluctantly she opened her eyes. He was right. Even still she couldn't bring herself to take the axe. She watched and watched and kept watching till the tears dried and her breathing gained some form of semblance of normality. Standing there till the sun began to shine its last golden rays on her, she shook her head no. Her father who had stood beside her the entire time, let out a sigh while shaking his head.

"Weak and cruel. To think you are my daughter."

She doesn't see her father raise the axe or the exact moment it came down. What she saw was red as it splattered on her face into her open mouth and swollen eyes. Diana felt the warmth of her best friend's blood seeping into her clothes, on her tongue, and into the earth.

"Death is but a moment. Once death is here, dying is over. Stop crying, it's just an animal, Diana."

Diana didn't even know she had begun to sob. She didn't even realize she was cradling the bloody body of her best friend, or that she was whispering over and over like a mantra, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I'll buy you another, now, stop crying or I'll give you something to cry about." It angered him to see his daughter wailing over a stupid animal as if she knows death. Real death. He had seen his brothers get their brains blown out beside him. He had to carry the bodies of his friends. He had to walk over the corpses of his fallen comrades and take the lives of German pieces of shit. He had to slit the throat of the boy he saw growing up who was like a son to him when his shredded hands became infected, poisoning his blood. He endured all of this and more and here she is cry's over a stupid fucking animal. He knew it was wrong of him but he hoped in that moment of his daughter's suffering that she would experience true despair, feel real fear, endure the genuine atrocities of war, and witness the face of Death so often she will come to find comfort in it and in the understanding that Death is a mercy. A mercy he wishes he was strong enough to give both of them.

She looked up to him for a moment, her expression melting into something empathetic. For a second he swore he saw an inhumane flash of her eyes, gold or could it have been green? It was gone in the blink of an eye. In that instant, he feared she had seen into his mind, saw his private thoughts. The return of her loud wails snaps him out of his trance. Of course, he was wrong, she was no witch despite her mother.

She keeps crying leaving him no choice but to go for his belt. That only seems to make her cry harder with pleas joining in. He sighs, staring down at her, why must she always learn the hard way.

~

"Breathe." The voice was close, soft and warm, and coaxing.

Her breathing was rapid and strained; she couldn't understand why she was struggling to catch her breath. What had she been doing, again? "You're here at Zoldyck Providence Obsidian. The air is cold and smells like rain. You're safe. Breathe." Her head shot up facing the grounding voice. The handsome face was tilted in concern, his perfectly shaped brows scrunched up together with a frown. His hand was on her shoulder, his warmth spreading through her like a protective cloak had been draped over her. Her breathing grew slower the longer she stared at him, analyzing his every feature. His sharp jaw, his high defined cheekbones, his long slim nose, the soft black waves of his hair framing his face, reaching his shoulders.

He was beautiful with aristocratic features she lacked. Her eyes roamed his face till she settled on his silver-grey eyes watching her from under his long fluffy lashes. His eyes were an electric shock through her, Diana doesn't know why they saddened her. She felt like something was missing. She knew she was forgetting something but the harder she tried to remember the more confused she became. She was missing something she just didn't know what.

He gave her shoulder a squeeze and this time she felt his magic move through her easing her pain and healing her more superficial wounds. "Hey, you're okay. I'm the Keeper of Obsidian, the Zoldyck Providence, but you like to call me -"

"Leo. Yes of course I know you." The young girl let out a small laugh, finding his little introduction a bit ridiculous and a touch too patronizing. "Uh, what were we talking about again?" Diana questioned taking in her surroundings, she didn't recall leaving the training hall but here she was standing in the open corridor with the doors shut behind.

He shrugged his shoulders bringing his hand back to his side. "Nothing important." The Keeper's face settled back into his natural one, an almost bored expression that kind of made him look mean. "Walk with me."

She smiled mischievously, "What just happened in there?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Well, I asked first. Do they all act like that? "

"Please, little one, can we forget about that. It makes me so uncomfortable."

"I bet it's super freaky and straight culty."

"I know. I've told them a million times to stop but they just get more persistent."

"How do you function like that?"

"Simple, I don't interact with them unless obligated. Kaisen and the Archpriestess are the only ones I willingly talk to only because I can actually have a conversation without them taking my every word as divine proclamation."

"So do I not count?" She gave him an affronted look by her lack of mention.

"I doubt you would even heed a true Divine Proclamation as anything more than an unsolicited opinion, little one."

"Fair enough." She nodded her head in resignation.

They had made it to the Keeper's Tower after only a single flight of stairs. This is what Diana loved about walking with him, regardless of the vast layout of the Obsidian, Leo could move across acres in seconds. He could have made them walk for as long as he wanted from a single step to an endless eternal walk. Aside from the other two Pillars and Heir, anyone else keyed into Obsidian could only apparate to specific areas depending on their clearance ranking. The immediate Zoldyck family with titles had unrestricted access, excluding the Keeper's Tower of course, whereas any Drakøn clan member would always be welcomed into Savior's Haven but was confined to it. Diana being the daughter of the leader of the Zoldyck Creed & Head of the Drakøn Clan, Kaisen Evita Itziar XII, had out of six clearance rankings the third-highest known as Sky. This is great if you don't take into account that Diana couldn't apparate. It was one of the many reasons she remained in Ciel Quarters right next to Keeper's Tower.

The Keeper didn't fall into the clearance ranking, he was considered a part of the Zoldyck Providence Obsidian as it was considered an extension of him, he gave it magic and life and such unable to leave it, forever tied to its domain. Diana found it sad, like a caged bird. When she asked him about it Leo gave her a misleading answer which relied on someone's own interpretation. She knew he had been blindsided by her question because he only ever answered in riddles when he didn't know what to say. Even still he seemed content with his confinement or at least attempted to portray it ever since, but Diana had caught him more than once gazing at the northern stars with longing. She had even heard him speaking to them though she doubted he ever got a reply. He was lonely that much was obvious to Diana.

Watching him now, seated across her with crossed legs and folded hands, Diana couldn't help but smile. He had come a long way. When they first meet a year ago he had been awkward and constantly creeping around her as if he was walking on eggshells. He had been lost on how to speak with her, she guessed because the others had always set the tone, but she, an outsider raised out of the Creed with zero knowledge of magic, had right outspoken to him like one would any ordinary man. Diana didn't really have much experience making friends and Leo could barely remember how it was to even have one so neither could actually answer the question if they were friends. Their dynamic shifted as their relationship progressed. Of course, his position and duties could not be ignored but Diana took it in stride, at least for the most part.

"Tell me, have you been practicing your meditation?"

"Ugh," The young woman let out a long groan throwing herself onto the couch across from the picture-perfect aristocrat. "Do we really have to have this conversation now? Im exhausted and still injured by the way."

"I'm still healing you as we speak, just slower as to not exhaust you before we can have this conversation."

She didn't know if she should be angry or impressed it was an underhanded but sly move, the question was why the effort or at least lack of, "It isn't like you to seek me out the days of my training sessions with Mikkhail, much less actually walk into one. . . So?" Diana studied him with a tilted head though he didn't give much away, his face was passive with every muscle controlled and every usual twitch absent. He meet her gaze unwaveringly and for the first time since settling into their routine Diana knew she was not talking to Leo any longer. Before her, was the ancient and powerful being with the right to command lives and dictate futures. The Keeper watched the Zoldyck child, apathetically.

Naturally, Diana fixed her posture sitting with a straight back and a lowered head tilted a bit to her right exposing her neck, just as how her mother had taught her to present herself at all times with the Keeper, a huge contrast to her previous sprawled out figure. Though very explicitly against her mother's command, Diana kept her eyes on the Keeper, refusing to lower them in submission. She would recognize his power but she be damned if she ever accepted the subjugation of another, much less a man.

"Have you been doing your meditations?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then why after three months without an episode that you have not been unable to draw yourself back, did you just have one?"

The berated girl was silent for a while running through her head on how to answer when she herself wasn't too sure as to why. "I had a . . . small dispute with Mikkhail. So I was already a little out of it when you came in."

"You're giving me symptoms, I want the culprit." He paused for a moment watching her as if he would be able to spot it. "There are new factors in your mind since last I saw you. Too many to have been from today. . . What caused the dispute between you and Mikkhail?"

"Nothing of importance." Diana couldn't help but bite back, too angry at being spoken down to hold her tongue. He didn't grace her reply with a response just kept silent and unmoving as if she hadn't answered at all. She was grateful but it also pissed her off more. What the fuck was she supposed to say 'I'm angry cause im useless,' 'I'm upset that the family I just got, is off fighting in wars, dying, while I'm here in a safe and pretty palace doing absolutely nothing,' 'I'm bitter that I was supposed to grow up with a brother, sisters, cousins, aunts and uncles, godparents, and a mom but didn't because I was a sickly mundane.' 'I'm pissed the fuck off that I was finally happy after a lifetime of not knowing what that felt like only lose everything.' 'I don't understand how you all expect me to be okay when I'm not but treat me shitty when I am.' 'I'm confused as to why I'm even trying.' But of course, she knew they would never want the truth, just an answer to support what they already decided on and so she said, "You treat me like a porcelain doll. . . and Visneya pointed it out."

He nodded his head, pleased with her response but not surprised. "Ah, you met Visneya. She does tend to be quite vicious. But understand that her words stem from her own insecurities."

She kept her violet eyes from rolling to the back of her head, it was truly hard-fought, "I understand what projection is, sir. This wasn't that. She was just pointing out what I was too willfully blind to admit."

"You're survival is a miracle, Diana. Mikkhail's actions are not uncalled for, he has acted appropriately with regard to your history."

"I am not the sickly child I once was. I can fight. I want to fight. I'm ready. If you would just give me the command I -"

"No."

"Please, sir. I'm almost twenty, I just want to go three months earlier. I don't understand what the problem is, sir."

"You will not be going to the front lines anytime soon, Domina." His use of her shameful inactive title as a Zoldyck still unbaptized into the Creed during war times was a direct blow to the chest. He might as well have called her a coward. It was not uncommon for Zoldycks to have early baptisms so as to join the war efforts. She had researched it, extensively, with the youngest Zoldyck not even reaching double digits. Dracarys Tanya Visary Zoldyck was someone Diana idolized and someone that Visenya reminded her of, which wasn't a surprise since that was her namesake. Meeting Visenya had awakened something in Diana, a need to prove herself. Diana was determined to take that from her, she knew she could be just as extraordinary as Tanya if only they would let her on the battlefield. Though the Keeper didn't seem to want to hear it, not that it would keep her from trying.

"Tanya was eight years old when you sent her to the front lines. She was one little girl that changed the tide of the entire war. Grown men would flee every time they saw her on the battlefield atop of Gemisis. It was your blessing that made her Great, give me the chance to do the same."

Her words seemed to have had a different effect than intended, instantly upon uttering her name his eyes had narrowed and his jaw clenched. In a low voice that sent off warning bells at the back of her head, he spoke his tone holding a dangerous edge. "Tanya was mad. She took more lives than she saved. She never fought, she massacred and enjoyed every instance of it. I didn't send her to the front lines so that she would be Great. I sent Tanya because I knew how much destruction she could bring and I knew she would be best of service to the Creed dying as a martyr than living as proof as to why they should kill us off. You praise her name now but back then they wouldn't even whisper it." He kept his sights on Diana, making her want to flee from under its weight. She didn't know if she was imagining it or if it was his face or if it was her mind or if the man before her was looking at Diana with hate. She thought he was done speaking when he finished on almost a bitter note, "Be grateful they were God-fearing then."

She didn't know what to say to that. She didn't know what to say to any of it. The only thing she could think of she couldn't help but let slip out. "She was a child," Diana whispered in a soft low voice she hadn't expected him to pick up on.

He didn't seem to like that, "Tanya was never a child." His sharp and venomous response made Diana sick to her stomach. She hadn't eaten today but she suspects if she had it would have made an appearance by now.

"Would you have done the same to me?" She felt pathetic asking it even more so that she couldn't meet his gaze but she had to know.

"I've learned my lesson once, I won't make the same mistake." It was a curt and simple response but also one left for interpretation. The Keeper kept his mask on despite the turmoil her words had insured. He had made a mistake. He had sent Tanya to war when she was still so young fearing what she could become. Because of him Tanya was raised by a battlefield only for her to have no choice but to flourish. He knew Tanya didn't want to fight in a war. He knew she just wanted to prove herself. He knew he created the monster she became. He knew he had never given her a chance to be a child. He knew he should have just killed her when he had glimpsed into her future.

The younger woman stood from the navy velvet sofa, unwilling to continue the conversation. The ebony-haired being did not protest, allowing her to walk away. It was not till the double doors opened to let her out that he finally seemed to think upon a more appropriate response. With nothing to lose he called out causing the silver-haired girl to pause.

"I'm not sending you off to fight in a war because I think you're unstable. I'm doing it because you can not even wield a wand."

"If I get a wand to choose me, will you give the command?"

"I, The Keeper, vow to you, Diana Peresfone Zoldyck, that should you find a wand capable for wielding then I will bestow you my blessing for an early Ignis Baptism into the Zoldyck Creed and in turn your deployment into active service in aiding the war efforts. So mote it be."

Without even a thank you, the little one is flying out the room, to where the Keeper suspect on her way to find the Zoldyck Heir. Her obvious eagerness made him sigh, well now he felt ashamed for getting the little one's hopes up. He could only hope her fool's errand would help mellow her out after today's disaster before having to break the news.

Time was ticking and he could feel the restlessness in the air. He had done it today. He was sure Diana had felt it too but of course, she couldn't understand. He made sure of that, it was why he constructed her mindscape to facture in such a way so as to keep the truth buried deeply behind those too painful to want to look closely at. It was an intricate and complex design that would have been impossible to have done on his own had it not already been half-constructed, albeit poorly done with little consideration to the subject's mind. No, it had been her mind's nature foundation that allowed it to function so well, any other person would have ended up braindead or just plain crazy. That's not to say that it's perfect, Diana still had problems but nothing that couldn't be worked with. Despite the mindscapes greatness it had broken his heart to destroy the raw design which she had unconsciously constructed to incorporate the outside interference with her own design. It had been pure, unprocessed, and unadulterated chaos. She would have gone mad had he not interfered but he couldn't help but feel like he had ruined a beautiful natural process.