Chapter 10

Dahlia looked down at her hands, one still gripped tight by Y'sh. However, she didn't really see them.

"My parents, who I hate to call that, are the CEO and CFO of the August Group. A marriage of convenience and wealth, that was it. My childhood wasn't exactly full of joy. I only existed as a trophy, a tool for furthering their own goals and wealth.

I was told that on my fifth birthday.

I was brought up to be perfect, to live up to their ridiculous expectations. I had to be everything they wanted in a little doll, only there to be presented and paraded around for their guests.

I had no friends, only servants. No school, just tutors brought in to the house.

I only ever saw them in person when they were judging me on how much I'd learned, or punishing me for how I'd failed.

The latter happened more often than the former, if it wasn't obvious.

When I failed, they'd find something to take away. After all, I was clearly being distracted by something, so removing those things could only help, right?

First it was my toys. Then it was my books. After that, they started to fire and replace the servants, so that no one could get close enough to be a confidante, let alone a friend.

The only thing they didn't take was the piano, and the lessons for that. But that was because they needed it for me to be able to perform for their guests.

They thought that musical talent would make me more attractive a bargaining chip.

My father told me that that was the only reason he tolerated my mistakes when learning the instrument. He only cared about me for the deals he could make, the prizes he could attain using me. Or at least, my body.

Happy fourteenth birthday, Dahlia, all I care about is what I can get out of selling you to someone who wants an heir.

Music was just another torture for the longest time. My only escape was a book that I'd hidden, a little book of fairy tales that I kept under a floorboard in my room.

Until last year, I hated music. Then I found something, that had been left in a drawer in my dressing table. It hadn't been there the day before, but I wanted to see what it was. It was an old music device, like a Scroll but with only one function. On it was music I'd never heard before, songs that spoke to me. I felt something from the music, that I'd never considered before.

I was up all night listening to those songs, the first smile in ages on my face.

It became my refuge, my one solace in that cold, empty house.

But last month, that all changed. I hadn't seen my parents for five months before that, and I was frog marched into my father's office to present myself before them. After an hour of being lectured at, never shouted, the raising of voices was never acceptable to them, my father pulled my music player from his pocket. He then gave it to one of his cronies, who broke it in his hands.

I snapped.

I used my Semblance actively for the first time, striking back. The look on my father's face was worth it, just in that moment. He'd never struck me himself, he always had others to do it for him, so me lashing out at him was stunning, apparently.

It was glorious.

Until he told his security detail to, and I quote, 'Take her down. Just don't damage the asset much, or visibly.' I wasn't even a person to him, just an asset, a resource.

I tried to fight back, channelling the music around me to dance around them. But unarmed, outnumbered…

I lost that fight, outright. The last thing I remember from then is a jolt of a stun baton connecting to my back, and the expression of tired disappointment on my father's face as the darkness swirled in. If he'd even showed some anger, I might have felt better about it. But I guess I wasn't even worth that level of emotion from him.

I woke up in my room, with the door locked.

Do any of you guys know fairy tales? I always loved The Girl in the Tower. I felt a lot of sympathy there.

Turns out, my father took some inspiration from that. The August family manor is on a cliff, overlooking the bay. And guess what view was right outside my window.

I spent the rest of the day, until night fell, just staring out at the sea, and wondering if that might be the only way I could escape.

Turns out, I didn't have to.

One servant had been with the household for longer than any other. She'd done everything she could to not appear to care about me. I think she felt I hadn't noticed her quiet consideration, the little things she'd done to make my existence a little easier.

Maria.

The mother I wish I'd had. She was kind of like the ones I used to read about in stories.

She managed to collect a few things together for me. A spare set of clothes that wouldn't reveal my identity. A Scroll that wouldn't be traced. The broken remains of my music player.

My weapon, that I'd had commissioned in secret, using the 'allowance' my mother had insisted I use for jewellery, as that's a pastime that's acceptable for someone of the August family's means.

And my book of fairy tales.

All packed securely in a very well-sealed, waterproof bag, and case.

I think you can guess what I did after midnight.

There's a reason I was freaking out quite so badly during initiation. One too many bad flashbacks of falling off a cliff. The impact alone almost knocked me out when I hit the waves.

Almost drowned three times before I reached a shore.

Turns out I washed up on the beach of Patch, just off the coast of Vale. I got found, unconscious, by a couple of kids, who went and got their dad and uncle, who took me back to their home.

After I managed to recover, I told the uncle and dad a bit of my story, without actually giving them any names, and their uncle offered to help me get into Beacon, without any questions being asked.

It was the closest to hope I'd ever felt.

And here I am now. Alive, at Beacon, and with the first friends I've ever had."

As Dahlia finished speaking, a silence returned to the table. Every member of Team WYRD had been through their own hell, it seemed, but none of them really knew how to respond to Dahlia's. Until Y'sh stood up, stepped around the corner of the table, and simply wrapped her arms around the smaller girl. Her silent compassion shocked Dahlia, who flinched for a moment before relaxing into her partner's embrace.

And she finally allowed the tears to flow, without fear, restraint, or shame.

From where she was, she couldn't see that her teammates also had tears welling up in their own eyes, but Rust could see the fury swirling behind Y'sh's. Partly because he knew her so well, but also because he was feeling something similar himself. To the point that his own hands were clenched so tightly that they were starting to tremble under the pressure.

After around fifteen minutes, Dahlia managed to regain some composure and freed herself from Y'sh's arms, smiling at her partner in thanks.

"Sorry about that, guys. You shouldn't have had to see me breaking down like that."

William raised a hand in objection.

"You have nothing to apologise for, Dahlia. We all know how hard it is to open up," he looked at the others, who nodded in agreement, "and there's no shame in breaking down a bit. Anyone would if they'd been through even half of what you just told us."

"yeah, but you guys have had it all worse."

"There is no way to compare individual traumas, Dahlia." Y'sh countered. "Everyone has a different experience, and you should not attempt to belittle your own sufferings by doing so. We have all suffered, yes. But no one should have to go through what you have." She sat down, and took Dahlia's hand in her own again. "And if I ever meet either of your parents, I will have to be restrained heavily, otherwise I will likely rend them into tiny fragments, much like the Grimm during our initiation. No one treats my partner like that and gets away with it."

Dahlia could hear the anger in Y'sh's voice, and felt it in the trembling resonating through her song. Truthfully, now she could pay attention, she could feel the same undercurrent of rage throbbing in the beats of both Rust and William's songs. Knowing that she had friends who would get so angry on her behalf, again, brought a fresh wave of tears to her eyes.

William reached over and took Dahlia's other hand, a gentle smile belying the fury reaching her.

"You're not alone, Dahlia. You're a member of Team WYRD, and we have each other's backs. We're with each other till the end of the line, no matter what."

She looked at the others, seeing them nodding at William's words, and she could feel not even the slightest hint of deceit coming from any of them.

"Thanks. Thank you all, so much."

And she started to cry again, only this time she was smiling.