“I’m Luis, that’s the name the Blue Empress gave me,” Luis said. “My true name is Amil. I was young when I worked for her as a servant, I made it a goal to learn her tongue from her, and when she tired of my presence, from her subordinate powers, who she tried to keep near. Now I’m someone who speaks for those who were most affected.”

“Custom,” Miss Militia’s voice was quiet, joining the murmur of translators as she advised Ashley, “Is if you overshare, you invite others to do the same.”

“Who overshared?”

“You did. You gave your full name. It may be rude not to engage in the back-and-forth, but it also tends to turn debates into something self-aggrandizing or about gathering the information to tear others down.”

Oh great. It had to be Ashley who was front and center for that particular lesson.

“Perfect,” Ashley said. “That’s fine.”

“Mirror him, match what’s being talked about. If he shares about his work you talk about yours. If he talks about war stories, you talk about yours. Questions are too pointed and rude unless you have a good relationship. Then you expand and invite them to mirror or compare themselves to you, or you wind down the personal side of the conversation.”

“Wind down how?” I asked, my voice quiet.

“Compliments are a good way of winding down the thread of discussion and getting back on topic,” Miss Militia said, to all of us, then to Ashley, “I suggest complimenting, it’ll help ease tensions.”

Ashley looked a bit annoyed, but she addressed Luis, “I don’t speak for anyone but myself, though I once considered myself one of the leaders for my team. I still do, in a way, but only for certain things that need my skillset. I respect the work ethic and the approach you talk about, the planning.”

“It wasn’t easy. I think if I did not have the scars I have now, the other people in this room wouldn’t trust me,” Luis said. “My family was… ravaged. There were people with powers who were free to be their worst selves and one of them chose my siblings as a target. Now she does not speak.”

“If you saw the video of us talking to Nieves, you know I was ravaged myself,” she said. “They took my voice, too.”

“My parents grieve constantly.”

“My parents—” Ashley paused. She’d mirrored and realized the trap late. “I killed them. It was an accident.”

“With your power?” Luis asked.

Miss Militia had said a question was supposed to be pointed, incisive. Was that an end to civility? The back-and-forth just a way to maneuver the other person into a point where they could be attacked?

“Yes. With my power.”

“Powers are dangerous. Unpredictable.”