"Wh-what did you say?" Azola asked the child, eyes widening in disbelief.

"You're parents must be dead, too."

"I…You…Pyrrha, that's not true." Azola set the child down at the top of the spiral staircase, just outside Tira's empty quarters.

"Uh-huh. That man said so."

Azola cringed, remembering her conversation with Joseph. He had been awfully blunt about their situation. "Yes, well…you're parents aren't dead, though."

The child narrowed her eyes. "But they are."

"Pyrrha, your mother was just here!" Azola argued, a hint of horror in her voice.

"Yes. But she's dead. Just like you. Just like me."

"What are you talking about?"

"We're all dead."

"Pyrrha! You shouldn't say such things," Azola pleaded.

"It's true. You walk, you talk. But you're dead. Soul Edge will devour you…if I don't first."

Azola was speechless. The child had gone mad. Pyrrha's eyes flashed red as she prophesied their utter destruction. Hopeless tears streaked Azola's face.

"Don't cry. It's meant to be. All will fall before the Sword."

Azola backed slowly away from the child. She was no longer sure what it was capable of.

Then suddenly, Azola heard footsteps on the stairs. Harsh, quick footsteps.

"Where is she?!" a female voice screamed. "Where is the mother?!"

Tira appeared instantly atop the stairs. She glared at Azola, then yanked the child toward her by the hair.

"Where is your mother?! Tell me!"

Pyrrha glared back defiantly. "Let go," she answered in a leveled tone, eyes flashing red once more.

Tira loosened her grip. "Where is she?"

"I don't know!" Pyrrha roared in return. "That's your job. Not mine."

Tira growled and turned to Azola. "When I find the mother, there will be hell to pay."

Azola swallowed the lump in her throat, and timidly asked, "Why?"

"Because," Tira spat, "she set me up."

Azola looked confused. "How?" she ventured again.

"I don't know! But I was ambushed. By old enemies."

Azola's eyes widened. She just now noticed that the scantily dressed teenager before her was covered in filth. Her clothes were torn and tattered, her skin bruised and bleeding. Azola's initial thought was one of rape, but she quickly decided that there wasn't a mortal being alive who could force himself on Tira. She would destroy him—or them—in seconds.

"Wh-what happened?" Azola stuttered.

"Men from the last siege. A count and a samurai. I was waiting for the blonde's wretched sister when they fell upon me."

Azola could barely breathe. She didn't know what to think.

"How could they have found me? How could they have known? I was compromised! And Sophitia was our only mutual contact. She betrayed me!"

Tira turned to the child, who seemed utterly unaffected by her tale. "Your mother will pay for her insolence," she whispered threateningly. "She will pay dearly."

Pyrrha didn't blink.

Azola bravely interrupted the silence. "But how could she have known your plans, or your position? How could she have contacted those men?"

Tira slowly turned to face Azola, whose own face was now filled with dread. Tira's face, however, was red with rage.

"I—don't—know. But when I find out, she will pay. Now leave!" Tira screamed, pushing Azola hard down the stairs.

Azola fell a great ways before crashing in a heap at a sharp turn in the staircase. She was barely conscious, but she still breathed.

Tira, meanwhile, snatched the child's hand and thrust open the door to her quarters, dragging Pyrrha in behind her. She then pushed the child forward, and slammed the door shut, the reverberations in the stone walls racking Azola's body with a fresh wave of pain.