This chapter was actually kind of awkward to write and may be rewritten in the future. from here on out it'll focus more on Dahlia and her viewpoint; her mother's name should be revealed in the next chapter or so. (I've got a history, power set, and weaknesses plotted out for her but names suck.)

When she woke, she couldn't feel her arm. She could feel the rather stern gaze of her father, but she couldn't actually feel her arm- it was unnerving. The ground under her was swaying, bumping along- they were in a wagon. They must have succeeded in their effort.

Or at least, the adults had.

She cast a glance to her arm- pleased to notice her hand was still at the end of it- before looking up to her father with a rather sheepish expression.

"Dahlia."

"It was stupid, foolish, I backed away too early, I could have died-"

"You tripped."

She went silent before she could continue, flushing a brilliant red as she tried to object and failed. She knew she had tripped- she hadn't expected him to notice so easily. She should have. "I still managed to complete my orders, Father."

"Barely."

"We had no major casualties."

"You lost half your unit."

"Sacrifices have to be made to win."

He sighed. It was not disappointment in his tone- it was relief. It was something that could be barely told with him- a man so gruff and harsh that most believed he was shouting when he was simply speaking at his normal level, flinched when he said hello. She smiled meekly as he nodded, shoulders dropping in relief of her own. He wasn't angry with her.

"Dahlia, tell me you learned something from this… wreck."

"... I learned that I am still weaker than you, and that I cannot let myself forget that the rhythm of battle never stays steady," she replied uncertainly, good hand rubbing the bandaged splint holding her arm together. "I learned that my footing needs work on uneven ground, and I am still horrid at blocking. And before you say it, no, I could have handled him if I'd seen him a couple of seconds beforehand-"

"But you didn't."

"But I didn't run when I did!"

"... And that, Dahlia, is something I can be proud of. Your mother will be the same once we return to Prime."

"... You're actually proud?"

"Most children your age turn and run at the sight of an enemy that strong," Darius replied, shaking his head as the smallest of smiles graced his lips. "From what I saw, you were in no fashion prepared to fight, but you weren't prepared to run, either. You were wholeheartedly going to attempt suicide fighting that man, and you didn't attempt to use magic."

"... Your warband doesn't use it, so I thought… it would be appropriate to play the part."

"You thought correctly. You would have caused more damage to your own than the enemy at your stage."

The wagon's rocking came to a steady halt, instead graduating to the bumpy ride of cobblestone. She wasn't prepared to step out of anything yet, and she wasn't even sure she could stand properly without fainting at this point in time. She prayed there was time before she had to move.

Her father, on the other hand, stood- he was large for his size, towering over everyone and easily making the wagon look uncomfortably small as he stood. Six feet was rare in a country like Noxus, malnourished as most children were; he was six and near a half feet, easily making impressions. She had loved to ride his shoulders when she was younger, too weak to hold a blade or dance the dance she was learning now.

He opened the cloth door, sitting on the edge for a moment to lean back and ruffle the ashen-black hair that she had inherited from him. "Practice in the wagon. We will be home within the fortnight, and you are not to leave this wagon."

"But-"

"That is an order, my daughter. When you are stronger, you may challenge me, but for now you are barely able to lift your shield."

She sighed as he dropped out from the vehicle, rolling her eyes as she did as she was told; she didn't believe her power was anything but borrowed, nor believed that she would ever need it, but her father insisted that she learn how to use it for some forsaken reason. She pressed her palms together, the weak and flickering flames that rested in her hands when they parted bringing the faintest smile to her face.

Perhaps it was not the worst thing to pass the time.

It was, indeed, nearly a fortnight before they had returned to Noxus Prime. Though painful, Dahlia had pulled her shield back over her arm, refusing to show her injury to those who might abuse it. Her father stood on the side that was injured, knowing that he was protecting a weakness and still settling to do so; she was young, and had shown enough strength in attempting to fight with it.

He knew she would one day hide her weakness on her own. He wasn't sure if he was ready for that thought.

They had sent a report forward via hawk to Swain, knowing that he would need a response as soon as he possibly could receive one, and still they knew they would both need to report directly to the Grand General about the success of the mission. He had been the general directing their movements, and she had been the one in charge of the child warband.

If anyone was to be punished for a failure, it was them. They knew this well as they made their way through the crowded streets, those who were afraid bowing out of the way of the General. She understood their looks, the dirty glances sent her way; many believed she rode on his coattails, not knowing the grueling training that came with being the daughter of both a General and a Mage.

"You are to remain silent, Dahlia."

"Understood, Father."

"Remember your place."

"Of course, Father."

"You are not strong."

"Yet."

She smiled as it earned a laugh from her father, even as he opened the doors to the core of Noxus Prime; it was a comfor tot know that even if death did await her for her mistakes, she could at least bring some light to her father's heart.