It happened far too fast. The militia won and their prophecy was just some false bullshit. The academy….Sice had no idea what happened.
Sice woke up to find herself in a moldy cell with stale bread and water for food which Sice was not going to touch. It was probably laced with poison. Someone had casted cure on her though. She remembered being stabbed in the midst of battle, distracted when Rem fell.
Rem….the transfer student who originally knew jack about their fucked up prophecy.
Sice hated her when they first met. Class Zero had been perfect but then they just had to bring in two transfer students from some damn village. Rem wanted to be a healer of a summoner class so that her skills would be useful for her village. No one told her that her village fell the moment she and Machina had settled in, two weeks later.
Ashes were what that village was reduced to. No one was spared. Women, men, children, animals, all ashes to be carried away to Etro's arms by the wind.
Rem was perfect. She was adorable and she wanted a family with Machina. Everyone adored her, of course. No one loves a vulgar, unrefined orphaned girl. Sice was jealous of Rem. With Rem around, the world around her was hostile; unloving and cold.
Of course, the world had always been cold, unloving and grey but Rem had a way of amplifying that mental picture.
Now, Rem was dead.
Maybe Sice was the only surviving student from that raid.
Sice laughed, her ruined voice echoing off the damp walls. It was ridiculous, her whole entire teenage life and half of her young adult life was spent in school, not studying but fighting. Learning the art of war and learning how to be God.
It was hilarious. Supposedly, the last one standing was the Agito. Sice felt tears streaming down her cheeks as the guards unlocked the door and drag the girl to stand up. Sice felt pain shoot up her spine. Her ponytail holder and red scarf was missing and it annoyed her that her hair was all over her semi-blind eyes.
Sice allowed the soldiers to tow her half broken body over to what she assumed, was an interrogation room.
The soldiers pushed her down to a seat.
"Oh…lovely."
A commander in the militia uniform was in front of her. Sice sneered. That fatass had his uniform properly pressed and cleaned. He certainly looked well fed and he gave off the vibe that he couldn't care less about the lesser mortals, better known as commoners.
"Oh, hello." Sice greeted, sarcasm laced in her voice. "You certainly look well fed when the rest of us are living on rations."
"A voice of a demon carries the expected tongue of a sewer." The commander chuckled. "I have a daughter around your age."
"You breed? Wow." Sice liked where this conversation was going. "Let's get down to business."
"Who are you?" The commander's voice was rather warm.
Sice blinked, the taste of concern felt foreign to the child after years of being a dog of war.
"Who ...am I?" Sice had no idea how to answer that question. "Number #06."
The female guard stationed nearby was alarmed. "Your name, not number."
"That is my name, retard." Sice spat, earning another punch to her jaw.
So much for concern.
"Don't bother giving me a name. I'll hate it and forget it." Sice grinned through blood, grime and sweat, three sickly combinations coating the expensive velvet drapes which made up her school uniform, pinning her down with the identity of that wretched, prestigious boarding school.
"What do you like to do in your free time?" The commander questioned.
"Killing fucktards like you." Sice easily replied.
Wrong answer.
The female guards lashed out their whips at the school girl. Sice reacted by arching her back upwards, moaning in pleasure. Whips reminded her of Seven. Memories of Seven is good. Seven is good. Seven is the only thing left. Seven. Seven. Seven.
Kurasame once taught in class that pain and pleasure both stream from the same source. One cannot get pleasure without pain nor can one obtain pain without pleasure. Just like Chaos and Harmony, pain and pleasure are two elements interlinked with each other.
"When you are in pain." Kurasame's voice seemed to resonate within the walls of her mind. "Associate the pain with a weapon resembling one of your comrades, imagine it is your comrade….-"
Your comrade making love to you. A love that you crave for.
Seven had a whip. Sice love Seven. Seven's element was present in the tortures they dished out at her everyday when she refused to part knowledge of Class Zero; of the academy.
Of Seven.
Seven. Dead. Seven. Not here.
"Any last words?"
Sice was dying. Any moment now and she would be in class again.
"Fuck you." Sice spat cheerfully.
The lights went out.
"Good night, child."