Sericea leaned forward as her mother's lesson deepened, her gaze never wavering from Absinth's commanding form. The concept of perception being a tool that could be honed, yet also a weapon that could be turned against them, resonated within her young mind.

She thought of the countless interactions she had already experienced in her short life - the playful tussles with her siblings, the watchful gaze of the ravens above, even the way her own mother carried herself with such authority and grace. Each of these moments had been shaping her perception, molding her understanding of the world around her. As Absinth spoke of exploiting weaknesses and reading subtle cues, Sericea's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. She pictured herself in a future confrontation, analyzing her opponent's every move, every flicker of emotion in their eyes. She would learn to see beyond the surface, to anticipate their actions before they even realized their own intentions.

Yet, her mother's warning about the dangers of misinterpretation echoed in her mind. Sericea knew she would need to be vigilant, to constantly question her own perceptions and be ready to adapt when necessary. The idea of being manipulated by others left her with a sense of dread, and she vowed to never let her guard down.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

Absinth let the silence settle over them, her gaze sweeping across the young wolves first and foremost, watching the way her words washed over them. There was a smirk playing at the edge of her mouth as she continued her circuit, her sharp gaze measuring their reactions.

“Think of yourself as a mirror.”she began, her voice softer, a dangerous purr that demanded attention. “Reflect back what they show you, what they want to see, or make it up as you go. Fear with defiance, kindness with indifference, strength with your own strength. Making your opponent unstable or complacent is key. Control your presence, manipulate the story they see. Those who can’t see through you will fall to their assumptions. Those who do… Well,” she chuckled darkly, “they may be worthy of your true intentions.”

She leaned closer to the children, her piercing gaze sharpening. “Know when to strike and when to hold back—find the answer most beneficial to you. It’s up to you to determine that. In many ways, it’s like a game—and we love games.” She smiles, amusement dancing in emerald orbs.

Stepping back, Absinth’s gaze swept over them all, her posture tall and commanding. Her voice took on a final, resolute edge. “Doubt, hesitation, impatience, overconfidence—these are your true enemies. They’ll screw you over before anyone else does, in a fight or in a battle of wits.” With one last approving nod, she flicked her tail and began to turn away. “Remember, every moment is an opportunity. Use it well, or lose it to someone who will.”


"Absinth Artemisia Inferos"

Xairo leaned forward slightly, his dark eyes intent as he absorbed his mother's final words. The concept of being a mirror, of reflecting back what others wanted to see, resonated deeply within him. It was a powerful tool, one that required a keen understanding of those around him. To manipulate perceptions, to control the narrative others saw - it was a skill he was determined to master.

As Absinth spoke of finding the answer most beneficial to oneself, of treating these interactions like a game, Xairo's mind whirled with possibilities. He could see how doubt, hesitation, impatience, and overconfidence could be exploited in others, turning their own weaknesses against them. But he also understood the warning - those same traits could be his undoing if he allowed them to take root within himself.

When Absinth delivered her final message, that every moment was an opportunity to be seized or lost, Xairo felt a surge of determination. He would not let these lessons go to waste. He would hone his perceptions, sharpen his instincts, and learn to wield them with the same deadly precision as his mother.

"Xairo Saxe"

Sericea's acidic green eyes were locked on her mother as Absinth delivered her final words. The lesson on perception had ignited a fire within her, a hunger to master this art of reflection and manipulation. She could see it now - the power in being a mirror, in showing others only what they wanted or expected to see. It was a dance of control, a game where the winner held all the cards. Sericea's mind spun with the possibilities, imagining how she could use this skill to her advantage.

When Absinth warned of the dangers of doubt, hesitation, impatience and overconfidence, Sericea took the words to heart. She refused to let those weaknesses take root within her. No, she would be like her mother - poised, calculating, always one step ahead.

As Absinth turned to leave, her parting message hung in the air. Every moment is an opportunity. Use it well, or lose it to someone who will. Sericea felt a flicker of excitement dance along her spine. She was determined not to waste a single chance to grow stronger, sharper, more perceptive.

"Sericea Praetor-Inferos"

He was no stranger to reading others in his own, youthful way, but this lesson pushed him further, forcing him to refine his understanding of perception and deception.

Reflect back what they show you, she’d said, and the thought set a subtle, roguish smirk on his lips. He envisioned himself face-to-face with an opponent, mirroring their confidence with his own arrogance, their doubt with a dismissive sneer.

Ludovic had seen life as a game of moves and countermoves; now, Absinth had sharpened that view. He could already picture it. How much easier it would be to conquer if he wore whatever mask was needed, using expectations as a snare.

His tongue clicked against his teeth, thoughtful, calculating. He’d practice this game of mirrors until he could wield it flawlessly, to tip the scales in his favor. With a sidelong glance, he caught the reactions of his siblings, cataloging their new knowledge. If every moment was an opportunity, he would make sure no opening slipped through his grasp. Not a single one.


"Ludovic Praetor-Inferos"

Ravana’s lilac eyes glittered as Absinth's words settled into the depths of her mind. A mirror, she thought, rolling the idea around her brain, each new idea sparking new avenues of thought. She could see it now—reflections twisted to suit her needs, the way her own coyness could serve as a mask, hiding the truth of her intent.

A slow, knowing smile curled at her lips, and her gaze flicked to her siblings, measuring them the way she imagined Absinth would. She imagined control—playing with perceptions until even the most cunning would stumble.

Mirror their strength with strength, Ravana mused, picturing herself in such a situation, where raw power alone wouldn't suffice. She’d let them believe she was yielding, only to twist their moment of overconfidence into their downfall. Reflect kindness? Perhaps as a trap, luring her opponent into believing her too soft, too naive. It would be their undoing.

When Absinth’s gaze swept over them one last time, Ravana dipped her head slightly, eyes shadowed beneath her brow, determination burning inside her. Every moment is an opportunity, she repeated in her mind. And she’d seize each one, twisting them into tools, weapons even, to wield at her command.

"Ravana Seraphim Saxe"

Xina had stopped her incessant circling of the sapling as her mother pulled her in with the words. Xina watched the ivory woman weave through her students as she wove in the words of how to play the game of perception with a mask made of mirrors. She could do that, she had always done that. In a sense, less a mask to hide with and more a mirror to learn from.

Control was not a strong suit of Xina's but as she narrowed her eyes and raked her gaze over the others she almost felt this mask shift into place. A mask where she could control how her body moves even if her emotions roiled within.

She could win a fight if she controlled the players. To wear a mask was to control the stage, show them what they wanted to see while planning her next move. Fight with a mask. Doubt, hesitation, impatience, and overconfidence... the true enemies.

Speech // thought

Silence settled over the group once more- but Mother’s piercing, emerald eyes were sweeping across their faces, a smirk curling her lips as she assessed their understanding of her lesson. Abyss was leaning forward on their toes, absorbing their Mother’s every word. As they truly found her teachings to be interesting. Liberating even.

The concept of being a mirror- to conceptualize oneself, to exploit weakness, and to build on strength. The image of what someone wants to be. How a front could be utilized to instill fear in others- but that doubt, hesitation, impatience, and overconfidence- it could result in one’s downfall. Never grow complacent. Nodding, Abyss replayed their Mother’s metaphor in their mind. Dissecting it. Through this knowledge and speculation, they would grow stronger.

"Speech"

As Zagan listens to Mother Absinth’s final teachings, his gaze is trained on her- sharp and steady, as he absorbs the weight of her metaphors. He’s folding her teachings into the deep creases of his mind, making sense of the new information. Think of yourself as a mirror. Zagan wondered to himself- how did others perceive him? Did they view him in the same light that he saw himself? A source of growing strength, who would someday take over The Syndicate and rule with a ruthless paw?

It seemed like Absinth was reading his mind. She elaborated on the importance of not allowing overconfidence and impatience to be their downfall. It could be their true enemies. Internally, Zagan is grappling with this new concept- grandiosity pumped through his blood like poison, a trait gifted down by his father. It felt so foreign. Still, Zagan is drawn in by Absinth's teachings, like the pull of the moon on the ocean tide. Because through her knowledge, he would grow stronger.


"Zagan Saxe"