Chapter Ten: Broken Oath

Kadaj moved behind her and cut the ropes binding her, exposing her two raw wrists to the air. She shakily stood up, leaning against the pole, the metal slick and cold against her back. She closed her eyes, unsure of what to expect. Her breathing was rapid and her cramped muscles protested against the strain of standing.

An electric shock was punched into her stomach before she opened her eyes. Aralyn doubled over, crying out in pain, her hair flying over her shoulders. She felt a warm liquid trickle down her shirt and paled. She wrapped her arms around her torso but it could not stop the flow.

Aralyn heard Loz chuckle. Before she could compose herself again, she heard leather rustle. She looked back only briefly to see Loz's boot swinging toward her, hitting her side with a loud, sharp crack. Aralyn was flung to the ground, gasping through the pain as she tried to find her breath. By the lingering stabbing sensation, she assumed that at least one of her ribs had been broken.

"She's not much fun, brother," Loz complained. "She's already down!"

Kadaj walked over and addressed his brother. "She is weak, but I don't think she's done just yet." He finished his malicious statement and stood above her, drawing his double-bladed katana and pointing it at her. "Get up," he commanded harshly.

Aralyn turned her head away, knowing that such a feat was impossible. The world was tilting as it was, and she was even lying down. Kadaj, however, seemed to think either that she was quite able or that it would be infinitely amusing to make her. Maybe it was a little of both. He swung his blade at her, making it clear that she would move or she would die.

Somehow she managed to pull herself up by using her arms, which were relatively unharmed at the moment. She clung to the wall, trying not to move and breathing carefully so as not to aggravate her ribs. In a sudden lapse of strength, she swooned and fell into a sitting position. She clutched her side, all too aware that the front of her shirt was staining her arm with blood.

"Do you like to dance, Aralyn?" Kadaj asked playfully. He flicked his katana at her legs, drawing a thin, shallow line of blood. Aralyn shirked away, trying in vain to escape.

"Dance!" Kadaj giggled, flicking the blade at her again and again. The wounds were shallow, none of them serious on their own, but stung like a whip and came just as fast. She clumsily tried to evade him, though the world tilted and spun wildly and blotches of vibrant color were appearing before her eyes.

She clung to the wall, as it was her only support. She twisted as she tried to escape the sword's lashes, but wasn't able to move much more than inches at a time. As a result, her attempts were futile and not one blow was successfully evaded. He took advantage of her current injury. Every move she made, instinctive or not, triggered the stabbing pain in her side. She was growing weaker through the loss of blood and she took comfort in the fact that they couldn't possibly draw it out much longer. Maybe, if she was lucky, a move would puncture her lungs and then it would be over.

Sephiroth, how could you…?

Kadaj's laughter echoed through her mind as she weakened, fighting less and less as her strength failed her. Eventually she couldn't hold to the wall any longer, and she collapsed to the ground, Kadaj leaping forward to wreak havoc on her body. Loz quickly joined him, sending numerous electric shocks through her. She tried to fight, and struggled as much as she could, but she was thwarted by the two men's raw strength. Her voice was hoarse, worn out by her screams and unheeded pleas. Kadaj and Loz showed no compassion, and battered her body ceaselessly. Yazoo just stood by, paralyzed.

Even worse than the physical agony were their eyes. Catlike, unnaturally and venomously green, they burned her with unhidden malice and frightening intensity. There was no distinguishable humanoid trait in those eyes; not the smallest iota of pity or remorse for what they were doing.

Just like his had been on that night beneath the wintry corpses of the trees.

Sephiroth…

Blood spilled down her body, pooling thickly around her and staining the ground as it flowed away with her life. A word sprang to her lips, but she suppressed it, pushing it back into the shadows that were taking her. She had sworn a thousand oaths never to speak that word, even though she knew that if she fell asleep, she would never wake again. Her breaths came with increasing effort, slowing, slowing…

She would never know how it came, or what the final restraint that had been broken was, but her defenses shattered. One moment they had been weakened, but intact, and the next they were gone. Throwing Kadaj's arms from her, she opened her mouth and with a short lived flare of strength, broke the oaths she had sworn in a single, solitary second of weakness.

"Sephiroth!" she screamed with all of her strength. Yazoo unexpectedly turned to her, shock clearly etched in his expression. He looked at her, his head tilted slightly to one side, awaiting what her next move would be.

"Sephiroth, you traitor!"

Yazoo's mouth fell slightly agape, appalled that she would dare to call on the man who had done this to her. From the stoic and unreadable expression that followed, however, she knew that Yazoo did not expect his leader to pay the least amount of attention to her pleas.

Loz and Kadaj had stopped at her outcry, giving her an opportunity to breathe again. She rolled onto her side, choking on the air that was suddenly overwhelmingly plentiful and tasting blood in her mouth.

This respite was not to last. Kadaj forcefully grabbed her chin and jerked her head so that she had no choice but to meet his eyes. She whimpered as her rib was jostled, and Kadaj's malevolent smile grew.

"What did you expect, Aralyn?" He had drawn himself so close to her face that she could feel his warm breath. She closed her eyes, wanting to escape, but Kadaj would not allow this, and he shook her violently until she opened them again, gasping and fighting to both breathe and retain some semblance of dignity.

"Did you think he would come? Did you think he would save you?" he continued mockingly. He brought his blade to rest in the small of her neck, still stained with her own blood. She shivered at the cold touch of the metal. "When he's the one that wanted this? I wish I could show you how happy he'll be when I bring your body to him." He slid the blade across her throat, not enough to break the skin, but more than ample to send her heart racing. He laughed maliciously. "You do want to make him smile now, don't you?"

Kadaj knew that at this point he had pushed her beyond her limits, and he raised the katana, holding it perpendicular to the ground above her heart. He placed the very tip on her chest, chuckling at her frightened reaction. Yazoo turned his back in anticipation of what was coming while Loz drew closer, holding her arms firmly to the ground with inhuman strength.

"No," she breathed, her voice dry and raspy. "No, I…didn't expect him to…even hear me…"

Kadaj smiled as he slowly lifted the blade, increasing the distance between her body and the tip but not altering the course it would inevitably follow. "Then maybe you're not as foolish as I thought."

Kadaj raised the blade high above his head.

Aralyn clenched her eyes shut and waited for the end. She could not hold back a scream of terror.

"Enough."

The voice was neither loud nor forceful, and yet it rang with power and authority. There was no emotion in his voice; no joy, sorrow, anger, concern, or relief.

Loz let go of her, pouting, and Kadaj shrank back and released her as if she had suddenly become hot to the touch. Aralyn opened her eyes, trying to focus through the tears that blurred her vision.

There he was, his silhouette a strong, commanding shadow against the light of the crescent moon and stars. He stood tall and regal in black leather in the moonlight, his hip length, pale silver hair flowing and gleaming around him like a subtly rebellious river. Even from the distance and through the veil of moisture she could see the burning green orbs that contrasted so vividly with his pale skin. He advanced slowly, his pace neither quickening nor slowing as his eyes searched out hers.

Aralyn could not stop the quivering that violently shook her body at the majestic and haunting angel. Though her voice was abused and her breath scarce and precious, she whispered in fear the name of the figure on whom she had called.

"Sephiroth…"