Dahlia

"It simply will not work, brother," Verita insisted. "Having an of-age daughter of one of our council yet to pass the Trial of Pride is bad enough, but suggesting she join to one of the Wyrm's knights? It's absurd!"

"Calm yourself, sister," Venus chided. "Our brother is torn as it is. We shan't lay this additional burden on him now."

"If not now, when?" countered Vana. "We haven't long before the Wyrm closes his gates. If we must make a decision, it must be soon."

Furos sighed a deep sigh. "Sisters, I know this displeases you. However, I believe this relation within the Wyrm's pale court could not only strengthen his trust in us, but also strengthen our tribe."

"I argue the contrary!" Verita rebutted. "If Dahlia, as you've named her, is to join the pale court, this only hinders our separation from Hallownest!"

Furos' blood began to boil, and he clutched his nail-lance tighter. "Our way of life is dwindling! If we do not join with the Wyrm, it will be the end of our people!"

"Enough!" Venus silenced her siblings. "This will not continue any more today. Regardless of our say in the child's future, she must pass the Trial before she may leave the tribe on her own. I suggest you prepare her, Furos. We shan't take it lightly simply because she is your spawn."

The only male mantis lord bowed curtly to his elder sister. "As you say, sister."

Furos stormed out of the throne room, head sagging with heavy thoughts and claws ached to destroy something. Stepping beyond the edge of the village, he stabbed the first thing he could find: an ambloom meandering blindly through the many paths of the wastes. It whimpered quietly as the life left its body, bright yellow puss oozing out. As he partook in the morsel, the lord stood and closed his eyes, listening to the distant sizzle of acid and gluck-gluck-glucking of balloon-like fungoons.

Why was it always hard for him to clear his head?

"Father?" a gentle voice cooed behind him. "What troubles you?"

A contented sigh escaped Furos' jaws. "Hello, my dear. My sisters are being obstinate, that is all."

A small giggle emanated from the young mantis. "Are they not always?"

Furos chuckled in spite of himself. "I suppose."

There were few things anymore that could truly calm the lord in recent years, but she managed it. How? He could not tell. Perhaps it was her caring tone that rarely rose above a whisper. Perhaps it was her kind heart, despite the harsh and often brutal upbringing she'd had. As of yet, she still struggled to wield the windlance Furos had carved her from a garpede mandible, but she was learning. He bowed his head.

Learning, but not fast enough.

"Dahlia..." he started. "I know how much you care for the Wyrm's knight, but perhaps there is a fellow mantis that may catch your eye instead. After all, you still have many years to choose a mate."

Dahlia shook her head, her antennae bobbing playfully. "Father, we've talked about this. Ze'mer and I have something that cannot be quantified. It must be this way. We both agree."

"And this I can see, my daughter," Furos reassured. "But, my sisters will not allow it. I... My claws are tied."

"I understand your worry, but this is how it will be, whether the lords agree or not."

The young maiden's father groaned with uncertainty. "Why is it that I can slay a garpede on my own, but you I cannot budge?"

"Because," came the answer, "sometimes the smallest, most unassuming creatures are deceptively strong."