The episode starts with visions of Athanasia’s disastrous past life still haunting her dreams. The next day, she redoubles her effort to practice her dancing even harder than ever. She’s still desperately seeking her father’s love and approval, which is mostly Claude’s fault for being such a deadbeat. Nevertheless, a line of thought occurred to me as I watch the poor girl trip over her feet in practice. It’s funny when you compare this coming-of-age stories with Western ones. When I think about those harrowing teenage years, I’m reminded of grotesque transformations, physically and mentally. I’m reminded of ostracization. Alienation. Experimentation. Struggling to find one’s identity among peers. But none of these are concerns for Athanasia even though she’s about to debut herself at the age of fourteen (still such a baby). Grotesque transformation? Puh-leeze. She’s the spitting image of her mother through and through, so physically, she’s absolutely flawless. No awkwardness. All grace. Athanasia doesn’t trip in dance practice because she’s getting used to her rapidly growing body. She trips because she’s trying too hard. Does Athanasia feel rebellious? Or forlorn? Or like a stranger in her own body? Like someone who doesn’t know what she wants to become when she grows up? Nope. She has a one-track mind and it’s all about father’s love and approval since the day her young self stopped being scared of him. Her raison d’être hasn’t changed one bit over the years. Granted, she’s not a modern teen girl, so we’re comparing apples to oranges a bit here, but are you seeing the picture I’m painting? Growth and change are often interlinked, but does it feel like Athanasia has changed at all? She can cast basic spells now. And she’s taller. But honestly that’s about it. Where’s the growth?