Cynthia moved cautiously up the ancient gray stone steps of the castle, rage burning in her heart as she did. She had learned to control her anger to some degree so as not to let it get her killed but it would unleash to its full extent in battle. Even though it often put her into grave peril, her wrath replaced fear and hesitation, which could prove lethal when fighting. She was now upon the double doors which towered over her thin form and she pulled one open to find it swing smoothly outward. The inside of the building was just as unkempt as the outside with wooden furniture overturned and rotting in dark corners, dust settling on everything around and small creatures scampering in all directions as Cynthia traveled on. She estimated that possibly millions of spiders had chosen to make this their home by the amount of spider webs in the place. The air was damp and cold, seemingly heavier than the already stale air outside and as Cynthia traveled on she began to get goose bumps from the cold.
The only light available was the moonlight that filtered in from a few small arched windows way up high making it difficult to see but she managed to find her way to a door where she pressed one ear to its dank rotting wood. After waiting for nearly a minute she finally pushed open the door and gasped in astonishment. A young man dressed in light armor lay upon the cobblestone, a large puddle of blood surrounding him and soaking into his long blonde hair. A curiously crystallized blue thin sword lay beside him, a dull light shimmering from hilt to blade. The stranger's eyes were shut tightly in pain and his arms were hugging his chest, which was presumably where his wound resided. Cynthia perceived the fragments of the massive red sword strewn across the ground as well as the dark armor that the knight she was searching for wore. A feeling of anger rose up inside of her as the realization that somebody else must have killed Nightmare came to her, then she reverted her attention towards the wounded man. He was most likely the usurper of her vengeance but there was only one way to be sure.
"You," she called, walking over to him. His blue eyes flickered open and stared dully at her, already beginning to glaze over with death. "Are you the one who defeated Nightmare?" He simply stared at her with pain in his face and then closed his eyes once more. Cynthia knew that if she wanted answers she was going to have to save this person, so she hesitantly stepped over him, his warm blood surrounding the heels of her boots, and removed his chest armor and the thin clothing underneath. His chest was well toned and muscular but Cynthia's attention was drawn towards the deep narrow gash just beneath where his heart should be. She would have to stop the bleeding right away so she ripped the bottom of her tunic off and then wrapped it tightly around the man's chest, pressing on the cut to slow the flow of blood.
She could still feel his ragged breaths but they were beginning to slow, signifying that he had probably lost too much blood but Cynthia would not give up that easily. "Look," she said to her patient in a stern tone. "Don't move. I'm going to perform a healing spell." He partially opened his eyes but did nothing more as Cynthia closed her eyes in meditation, dexterously forming an unobservable illustration into thin air. She then softly blew into the cool air, using a hand to guide it towards where she'd been previously weaving and the image flared into existence, its intricate design branded into nothingness. Suddenly, the lines and swirls began to unwind, flowing soundlessly into Siegfried's open wound before forcing his severed flesh shut. "Now you should be fine," she announced to him, standing up. For a while the man simply stared down with amazed eyes at location which had housed a grave wound only a moment before and then uncertainly got to his feet, blood dripping from his stained hair. "Th-thank you," he said, quietly. "You're welcome. Now in exchange for saving your life, you will tell me what happened. You can start by telling me your name," Cynthia ordered staring directly into those soft blue eyes.
The man nodded and said, "My name is Siegfried Schtauffen. I was a bandit until I went out to search for the cursed sword, Soul Edge in order to avenge my father's death. However, I've been plagued by the sword ever since I laid hands on its hilt. For longer than I can remember I have been slaughtering countless innocents in criticism an attempt to bring my father back from the dead... I know now that I was being foolish. I suppose you want revenge for loved ones?" A spark of hope lit up in Cynthia's heart. The man who killed her parents and friends was still alive, unarmed and right in front of her! She said, "You are correct, Mr. Schtauffen. I am here for revenge." She unsheathed her dagger, ready for her victim to either flee or lash out at her but to her surprise he did neither. Instead he remained where he was a stationed, deep blue eyes staring defiantly into her own. "I will not allow you to kill me. I am not Nightmare." Cynthia kept her eyes hardened in concentration, her mouth firmly shut and her hand clenched so tightly around the hilt of her weapon that it began to shake. Then a certain realization gradually entered her mind. This man was right. He could not help what the sword had made him do. She didn't have the right to take his life. The man she was after was Nightmare, not Siegfried. She sheathed her dagger once more and sighed. "You're right, you're not the man I'm after," she muttered, walking towards the door. Siegfried slowly raised his head and stood up, calling out to her, "Thank you for realizing that."
She turned her head and nodded then exited the castle feeling peculiar. She had come into the castle to kill the man who had killed her parents and ended up saving him... or at least the body he was using. As she walked, Cynthia slowed down, her mind still lingering on the young man she had saved. What would he do now? He had no family, no friends, nothing to go back to as far as she was concerned. She hesitantly turned back and once again entered the room to find Siegfried staring dejectedly out of a castle window. He turned instantly when he heard Cynthia enter and a perplexed expression occupied his face. "Did you change your mind," he asked. Cynthia sighed and muttered, "No. I was just curious. What are you going to do now?" Siegfried turned his head back towards the window and sighed, "I'm going to find a way to seal Soul Edge forever." "You mean to say that it's not utterly destroyed?" Snapped Cynthia. "In that case, I'm going with you. I still have a chance to acquire my revenge!"
The man shrugged indifferently and muttered, "Do as you wish. Just don't slow me down." Cynthia's teeth gritted against one-another and she gave Siegfried a venomous glare. "I won't. If anything, you'll be struggling to keep up with me." Siegfried turned his now calculating eyes upon her for a few moments and then muttered, "For your sake, I hope you're correct because I won't turn back to help you if you get into trouble." The girl's cheeks flushed with fury and she snapped, "Just who do you think you are! I'm not the one who just got beaten to a bloody pulp, ok? I'm the one who just saved your sorry ss!" The man smiled softly at her and then responded, "Then it's settled. Let us depart. By the way... you didn't give me your name." "And I don't see the need to do that," Cynthia snarled. "Fine. Then I suppose you wouldn't mind me making up a substitute for your name?" he asked with indifference. The girl glared up at him for a few moments before muttering, "It's Cynthia, ok?" He nodded and rose; blood still dripping from his straw yellow hair and Cynthia grudgingly followed, still fuming silently. The two were soon traversing through the thick woods surrounding the castle towards the nearest town.