Siegfried knew something was wrong the moment he realized that he did not feel Tira's warmth against his body.
Tira always lay beside her Master until he rose from bed. She never spent a moment away from him unless told to do so. Siegfried knew better than to overreact over something so minor - but Tira's habits were unwavering. What would cause her to rise before him?
Fighting back the anxiety beginning to rise within him, Siegfried chastised himself for his concern. She probably left to relieve herself, as all people must do. She will return within minutes.
And yet, Siegfried was familiar enough with Tira's nature to know that he was in denial. Tira would wait for her Master no matter what manner of stress her body was subject to, and would never break a longtime habit for fear of disappointing him.
Siegfried could do nothing but wait for Tira, as he attempted in vain to calm himself. To think that I, the man responsible for so much death, the man who has sworn to destroy Soul Edge, would become so troubled by something as trivial as this. It is unbecoming. There are far more serious matters at hand than whether or not Tira lies beside me.
And yet, as he imagined a life in which Tira did not lay beside him, Siegfried experienced a feeling of emptiness. He realized that if Tira did not share his bed, he would feel as if something was missing. Tira's presence had gradually become a firm part of his life. Removing Tira from his company was like removing blue from the sky, or heat from fire. He would be incomplete without her.
It had been months since Siegfried had taken the time to reflect on Tira's role in his life. He realized now that she had become a part of the background, a piece of scenery to him. He expected her to always be there, and so he paid no attention to her, because he had no fear that she would ever be gone.
And so, it was only Tira's absence that could cause him to take notice of her. When she was readily available to him, she seemed less valuable. A common metal is considered dull, but a rare metal is considered a treasure.
Only when he could not reach out and touch her did Siegfried realize how much he treasured that touch. Now that Tira's true value had become apparent, Siegfried realized with a sharp pang of guilt that he had not treated her with the respect that she had deserved. He had been indifferent to her, caring not for her emotions. He had been rough with her, caring not for her pleasure.
It was now and only now that Siegfried was finally able to see how he had mistreated Tira. He felt overwhelmed with guilt and regret. Memories returned to him of the remorse and shame that he felt when he awoke to see dozens of innocent people, dead by his hand. His cruelty to Tira did not compare to his slaughtering of innocents, but this was the first time since those dark days that he had felt so much guilt and embarrassment.
I will rectify this. I will cherish her. I will let her know how much I appreciate her at every opportunity. She must know how much I value her. She must know how much I want her to stay by my side.
...But where is she? Why did she leave my side?
Siegfried placed his hand upon Tira's pillow repentantly, only to draw it away with haste. He leaned forward to confirm what he felt, and saw that it was true. There was a damp stain on Tira's pillow as if water had been spilt - or tears had been shed.
Siegfried's remorse and shame grew deeper, as did his urge to see his slave once more. He bolted from his crude bed and dressed himself quickly, ignoring his armor for now. He emerged from his tent, and scanned the campsite. Cassandra was the only one present, cleaning up the remains of last night's campfire. The rest of the women were apparently still asleep.
"...Good morning, Siegfried." Cassandra said. There was a degree of uneasiness in her voice, but Siegfried did not take notice.
"Good morning - have you seen Tira?"
Cassandra seemed hurt, but again, Siegfried did not observe it. "I've been awake for an hour. I haven't seen her."
Trying to quell his growing panic, Siegfried began to walk around the campsite, hoping in vain that doing so would somehow reveal Tira to him.
"It's unusual for me to wake up so soon." Cassandra said, hinting that her early rise was something that Siegfried should inquire about. He did not respond. "I didn't sleep very well last night." She said, trying a more direct approach.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Siegfried replied, increasingly tense and frantic in his march around the campsite.
"...Never mind." Cassandra muttered.
After a few minutes, Siegfried ceased his futile search, acknowledging that Tira would not magically appear to him if he walked around the campsite enough. He sat upon a wooden stool and ruminated over his failures and regrets.
Several minutes later, Siegfried and Cassandra were startled by a distressed Taki erupting out of her tent. Her sudden exit did not alarm them as much as the distraught expression on her face - a rare sight except in the most dire of circumstances.
"One of our shards is missing." She reported tersely.
Siegfried bolted upright. "What?"
"Stolen from my tent during the night." She explained. "I have detected assassins in my sleep numerous times. The thief was extraordinarily skilled."
Siegfried began pacing. He was thankful that something, anything was distracting him from Tira, but he was no less stressful. "Why take only one shard? Why not kill us?"
"I think it was a warning." Taki said. "They want us to know that they could kill us at any time. Someone wants us to stop our quest."
"If they wanted us to stop, they could have stolen the Soul Embrace, as well. No need to stop at a single shard."
"I think you two are approaching this the wrong way." Cassandra said. "Who is incapable of taking more than one shard at a time? Who is incapable of killing us, only stealing from us?"
Siegfried nearly disregarded Cassandra's words as a futile attempt to seem wiser than himself and Taki, but then gave her a chance. As he thought her words over, the answer became all too clear to him.
"A Watcher." Siegfried said. "The Watchers would only deliver me - Nightmare - a single shard at a time."
"One of those abominations was in my tent?!" Taki practically hissed.
"...If it was a Watcher...it will lead him back to us...he may already be on his way..." Siegfried was under more strain and tension than he could bear. One thing after another. Why is everything falling apart?
Cassandra and Taki were unnerved by Siegfried's uncharacteristic fear. If the stone-faced Siegfried was terrified, then they must certainly be facing their doom.
"...We don't know for certain that it was a Watcher." Taki said, attempting to calm Siegfried so as to calm herself. "Let us consider other possibilities."
Siegfried shut his eyes tight and tried to put his weary mind into motion. Tira is gone...there may have been a Watcher in our camp...Nightmare may be coming for us...
...Tira...Watcher...Nightmare...
A scenario appeared in Siegfried's mind. It was only one possibility, and there was not enough evidence to take it as fact - but Siegfried knew it was true, simply knew without any solid proof at all.
I can't believe I didn't consider it sooner. I was simply too fond of her to imagine that she would be the thief.
But would Tira really seek to deliver a shard to Nightmare? Why? What would she want with him?
Words from the past took Siegfried's mind.
"...Tira...if you are unsatisfied with me...with the direction in which things are moving...then you are free to leave. I understand if I am not a satisfying master. I understand if you would rather leave me, and find another master, if what you want cannot be found with me."
His very own words to Tira, spoken so long ago, shortly after he had met the woman named Xianghua. He had given her permission to leave him if he did not satisfy her. He had given her permission to find another master who could give her what she wanted.
He recalled what Tira had told him after they shared a bed together for the first time - she had been an assassin for many years, trained to kill since childhood. After Siegfried had demonstrated his pacifistic methods to Tira, she had never spoken of her grim origins again, nor had she taken a life she was not forced to take. But on the occasions when Siegfried had witnessed Tira draw her blade, he had seen a thirst for blood in her eyes, a lust for death. It was quite obvious that she had been hiding her true nature from him as part of her vow to never displease him, in order to avoid conflicting with his pacifism. Siegfried had done his best to ignore it, to deny it, to see Tira the way he wanted to see her - but deep down, he had known from the beginning that she was a murderer, by her own admission.
Tira had told Siegfried that she wanted to serve him because she was similar to him. But perhaps the closest match for Tira was not Siegfried at all. Perhaps his darker half was in fact the one who was more alike.
Tira, bowing to that abomination, pledging herself to him, serving him...
Pleasuring him...
Siegfried felt bile rising in his throat. No longer possessing the strength to stand, Siegfried took his seat again and put every ounce of willpower into controlling the emotions welling up within him.
"Siegfried? What is it? Have you figured it out?"
"...Tira is gone. She left." Siegfried said. His voice was flat and emotionless. It reminded Cassandra of the cold, detached voice that he had spoken with the night he took her purity.
"...Siegfried!" Taki gasped. "Do you think Tira may have been the one who stole the shard?"
"It is possible." Siegfried said. This time, his words were uneven. It seemed as though his voice was starting to crack.
"What do you think she wanted with a single shard?" Cassandra asked.
Siegfried hesitated before answering. When he spoke, his words sounded hollow. "Tira is well-meaning, but misguided. She may have decided to kill Nightmare in order to please me, thinking that the task would be simple. She may have taken the shard so that she could allow a Watcher to take it, and follow it back to Nightmare so that she may attempt to kill him."
Cassandra's mouth hung open, yet no words came out. Taki closed her eyes and digested this information.
"Wow." Cassandra said. "I can't tell if that's brave or stupid. She means well, but she shouldn't have acted without telling us. And what's more than that, she's probably going to get herself killed! It's her own fault for being so careless and - " Cassandra froze, petrified by the look on Siegfried's face. It was a dreadful combination of fury, disgust, and hate. Cassandra fell silent and looked down.
Taki said nothing. She appeared to be deep in thought.
When the other women awoke, they were informed of the news. While there was no ironclad evidence to support it, the women agreed with Siegfried's explanation, considering it something that Tira would be likely to do.
The others could plainly see that Siegfried did not wish to speak about Tira's departure, and so they did not discuss the issue. Even Ivy, who usually leapt at the chance to say "I told you so", kept her mouth closed to avoid any unnecessary clash with Siegfried.
The women asked Siegfried if he would prefer to wait for Tira to return before breaking camp and leaving, but Siegfried said no. They disembarked and continued their journey.
For Siegfried, solitude was a thing of the past. His entourage constantly kept him company - whether he wanted it or not. Siegfried could not remember the last time he experienced feelings of seclusion.
However, despite the fact that there were six women just a few feet away from him, Siegfried had never felt as lonely and isolated in his life as he did now.
After a few hours of travel, the group stopped to rest. Siegfried distanced himself from the others. He heard footsteps approaching, and assumed it would be the compassionate Sophitia seeking to console him - but instead, he heard Taki's voice accusing him of dishonesty.
"What is the true reason that Tira left?"
Siegfried knew he could not hide anything from Taki. She was too clever for that. He also knew that she appreciated brevity, and so he was concise.
"I am certain that Tira has abandoned me and now seeks to serve Nightmare."
"How certain?"
"I've never been so afraid - and so convinced - of anything else."
"The next time we meet Tira, she may be our enemy."
"It is possible."
"Are you prepared?"
"I may have to rely on someone else to strike her down."
"Then I will take her life for you, if it comes to that."
"Thank you. Please don't tell the others about this."
"They should be aware of all possible threats."
"...Then tell them that Nightmare may corrupt Tira and turn her against us. Don't tell them that Tira's betrayal is by choice."
"Very well. I understand that you may be going through a great deal of emotional suffering. If you doubt your ability to lead us in your condition, then please assign the role to someone else."
"I think I can manage. I will control my feelings. If it does become necessary, I will call upon you to guide us in my stead."
"You have proven your competency in the past. I trust you, Schtauffen."
With that, Taki left Siegfried to his thoughts.
---
Everything was coming back to her.
How long had it been since Tira had met anyone who could keep up with her as she flew through the trees? How many hundreds of nights had passed since the last time she had embarked on a mission to take a man's life, surrounded by living instruments of death?
In the darkness of night, Tira could only catch brief glimpses of the ravens flying through the trees alongside her. This sight brought back the memory of her past allies flitting across tree branches beside her, a flock of murderers darting toward their unlucky prey.
She had never forgotten this sensation. She did not allow herself to yearn for it, refusing to desire anything besides her Master's approval and appreciation, but she had never forgotten how it felt to fly through the canopy of a forest like this, surrounded by her partners, eagerly advancing upon her victim.
The experience opened a floodgate in Tira's mind that submerged her in ancient memories. Faces of old masters and associates from the Bird of Passage flickered through her mind, as did previous assassinations and the many gruesome ways she had sent her targets to their deaths. She had not felt this in so long, choosing to trade nights of death for nights of passion. As she swung and leapt and fluttered through the forest, Tira had a difficult time deciding which of the two experiences was more exhilarating.
Her voyage came to a sudden halt as she reached the edge of the forest. She clasped a tree branch, swung around it in a somersault to kill her momentum, and dropped down to the ground. Only once she had come to a stop did she realize how exhausted she had become; while still nimble, her body had atrophied, and she was no longer as athletic as she had once been. She had exercised and trained her body while in Siegfried's employ - sometimes nude and standing before him - but rarely had the chance to practice leaping from one perch to another at high speeds.
Tira now stood at the edge of a cliff that overlooked a castle. The stronghold almost seemed to cast an ominous shadow over the land around it, a sinister and threatening aura that stretched for miles, encompassing several villages and even a small nearby city. Such gloom and boding evil meant that Tira had found her destination, and her lips curled into a grim smile.
However, it would not be as simple as running into the castle and slaying its lord. When she was still young and naïve, Tira had come close to death many times because she had neglected to learn about her target before attempting to kill him. Preparation was the key to a successful murder; if Tira knew her target's weaknesses and when he was the most vulnerable, then his death was ensured. To be ignorant of any detail could potentially ruin the mission. All must go exactly according to plan; Tira could not allow an unexpected twist to ruin her debut mission for her new Master.
And so the investigation began. Tira extended her arm, and within moments a Watcher perched upon it. She did not need words to convey her intentions to the creature; the moment Nightmare had bequeathed the birds to her, Tira had felt them form a nearly psychic bond with her. Their eyes met for a moment, and Tira knew the bird was aware of her objectives. The Watcher bowed its head to her in understanding, and she rewarded its cooperation with a kiss. With a subtle nod toward the castle, Tira thrust her arm out and sent the bird on its way. She took a step forward and began skidding down the side of the cliff, toward the city below.
The formula of the Bird of Passage was still clear in her mind: Spy on the target. Learn his daily routine. Learn when he is vulnerable. Eavesdrop on him and his subjects. Learn his weaknesses. Interrogate anyone who has the slightest chance of knowing something useful. Kill them afterwards. Don't leave a trace of your presence. Kill all witnesses. When the time is right, converge with the flock and share all information.
It was just like old times.
It was beautiful.
---
Raphael Sorel was a secretive man. Reclusive, nearly a hermit, he remained in his castle almost perpetually. He did not employ servants or guards, as he was a self-sufficient man who preferred his isolation.
The only recent instance in which he had emerged from his castle occurred a day prior to Tira's arrival. Upon hearing that a holy object had entered the vicinity, Raphael had ventured out of his stronghold to investigate it. Witnesses reported that, upon touching the item his skin became blistered and burned. The Frenchman destroyed the object in a fit of rage, and hastily took his leave.
The man was imbued with darkness and evil; his weakness was obvious. Regrettably, Tira did not have any holy relics at hand. Her new Master had generously given her seven days to eliminate Raphael, but there was no guarantee that Tira could acquire a suitably divine weapon with the time that remained to her.
Tira's new Master possessed supernatural strength and enough power to slay an army, yet Raphael had managed to defeat him. Not only this, but the sheer amount of evil force within Sorel's body was enough to influence and contaminate the land for miles around.
He was superhuman, vulnerable only to a force that Tira did not possess, and too reclusive to provide Tira with adequate knowledge to give her an advantage. The results of her investigation were disappointing, but she could not have done better. It seemed unlikely that she would succeed at killing Raphael. However, Tira was even more afraid of disappointing her Master than she was afraid of her own death. She would not turn back.
And that is how Tira came to be perched a windowsill on the side of Raphael's castle.
The Watchers were among her, but would not join her in the fight. Tira did not wish to endanger her Master's gifts to her, and it was necessary for her to prove her worth without using the birds as a crutch. She had allowed the winged servants to lead her to Raphael's location as she scaled the castle wall, but it was here that she parted ways with them.
There was a curtain drawn over the window that Tira now leaned against, but the window to her left allowed a clear view outside - or, from her perspective, inside. Tira leaned over and tilted her head to peer discreetly through the glass.
The room was an enormous library, its walls lined with books. The window led to a large interior balcony overlooking the rest of the room. The room was illuminated by abundant candlelight; there would be no opportunity for hiding among shadow. A single chandelier hung over the scene, crystals illuminated and showing reflections of every part the room.
The room was still - except for the movement of reflections in the chandelier, exposing the presence of Raphael.
Her target ascended the stairs to the balcony, and began to scan the rows of books that lined the walls. Raphael was tall, with unnaturally pale skin and blood red eyes comparable to that of her Watchers. Despite being alone, he had dressed himself formally, in an elegant green-and-red ensemble with a flowing, two-tailed cape. To Tira's surprise, he wore plates of armor on his chest and shoulders, and armored gloves that ended in clawed fingertips. More concerning was that a rapier adorned the man's side. Had she blundered? Was he aware of her presence - coming for her now?
Apparently, this attire was only another branch of the man's eccentricity, as he did not seem to acknowledge her presence, and proceeded to examine a bookshelf.
If the man carried armor and a weapon as a precaution, he was always prepared for an attack, and so Tira would not be able to ambush him. If the man was equipped because he expected her, then that also killed any chance of a surprise attack. Her assault would have to come now or never. Tira spared no time.
Tira climbed up above the window leading into the library, gripped the top of the windowpane, performed a handstand, and then swung her body down with as much force as she could muster. She slammed through the window feet first, and landed on the balcony inside.
Raphael reacted immediately without any sign of shock or surprise, drawing his rapier and performing a thrust. Tira swung her ringblade to knock the sword aside, and then swung it again to parry a second stab. Raphael stepped back to thrust forward, but suddenly stopped.
"Who are you? I thought those buzzards belonged to Nightmare."
Tira winced as she realized that her Watchers had given her away. She should have known that Raphael would recognize them - they were a hallmark of her Master.
Tira didn't bother responding to Raphael, and simply continued her attack.
Raphael's combat style was unique, and, in some respects, similar to Tira's. His attacks were graceful and acrobatic like hers, although he attacked with needless flair and flamboyance. Raphael was fond of spinning around unnecessarily as if to show off, and a few times he quite literally seemed to dance in place before attacking. Either the lavishness of his fighting technique was just another quirk of his, or he did not see Tira as an opponent who deserved to be taken seriously. Either way, his odd behavior irritated Tira, who did not show him mercy as she ruthlessly swung her blade at him, aiming exclusively for fatal blows.
Tira's constant assault kept Raphael defensive and unable to counter-attack. Raphael attempted to turn the battle around by parrying and countering, but failed in his attempt, leaving himself open. To undo this error, he quickly moved backwards to put space between himself and his foe, only to slam against the wooden rail of the balcony.
Raphael was cornered, and Tira seized her chance. She smashed her ringblade down into the floor, then swung her lithe form through the hoop and slammed both feet into Raphael's chest. The impact easily forced the wooden railing to break, and sent Raphael plummeting over the edge.
Tira was quick to follow him, leaping over the balcony no sooner than he'd fallen off of it. She fell toward him with her ringblade around her body, aiming to land on top of him and slice the Frenchman in two.
Raphael rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding her deadly landing. He rose to his feet, twisting the rapier in his hand so as to use a different technique against her.
"Such ferocity." Raphael noted. "I won't show you any mercy. I'll stab your heart - if there is one for me to find."
Tira smirked, not did not reply. Raphael bounded forth and delivered a flurry of wild stabs, a completely different style than his previous technique. Tira parried each assault as best she could and prepared to cut, only for Raphael to twist himself out of the way and slash, cutting into her right arm and leaving a deep gash.
Tira hissed and then swung her ringblade in wide arc. Raphael blocked the strike with his rapier, but the force was sufficient to knock him back, and allow Tira to pursue him, leaping up and kicking him with her right leg and bringing him to the floor. Tira swung the ringblade over her shoulder, ready to slice down and cut his neck only for Raphael to roll out of the way and evade her blade a second time.
Raphael quickly leapt back up to his feet and launched another hail of stabs and thrusts, filling the air with the sound of his blade clanging against Tira's. Tira sneered and drew back to try a less angular attack. She extended left to grip the ringblade, spinning it around and along her wrist, creating a sort of barrier between herself and Raphael as she approached him, attempting to corner the man.
Raphael instead drew away and moved to her left, tilting his arm over his head so as to slash at Tira's unprotected flank from an unexpected angle. She slid the ringblade from her wrist to her arm to block the attack. Raphael aimed a thrust at her neck, but Tira ducked down, losing only a few strands of hair to his rapier's blade.
Tira swung her legs out, tripping Raphael and knocking him over again. She quickly returned to a standing position, and swung the ringblade down at his neck again, only for Raphael to grip his rapier with both hands and position it so as to block her strike. Even pinned down, she couldn't cut into him.
Raphael gave a low growl and shoved his rapier forward with enough force to bring himself back to his feet, and knock Tira off of him. He began another rapid succession of thrusts.
Tira scowled. This man was too systematic, too formulaic - his attacks were repetitive and monotonous. There was nothing fun about this fight - it was boring, repeating the same cycle time and again. She usually enjoyed fighting, but this man brought her no joy - only irritation.
As Raphael was in the process of a stab, Tira lunged and slashed. The ringblade cut through his armor and sliced his chest, and his rapier was turned away from a course that would have sent it through Tira's heart and lung. Raphael staggered backwards, trying to remain upright, but fell to the ground, landing hard on his back.
Tira reacted quickly and stomped a foot down on his rapier's blade, depriving him of a weapon - or so she thought. Raphael's free hand lashed out and gripped Tira's leg, and the blades on his clawed glove sliced down into her leg. Tira screamed in pain, then swung his ringblade down at his chest. Tira felt warmth as Raphael's blood splattered upon her body, then felt Raphael's grip on her leg go slack. She stumbled back, and fell to the ground, the wound in her leg causing her too much pain to stand.
Tira moaned in pain through gritted teeth, clutching her leg with both hands. Fear pulsed through her body with each beat of her heart. She was almost too afraid to take her hands off the wound to see how bad it was. The pain was so sharp - for all she knew, her leg was mutilated and disfigured. What if she couldn't run anymore? What if she couldn't even walk anymore? Was it this? Was this the end? Was it all over so quickly? No more fighting? No more killing? How could she serve her Master like this? If she had never left Siegfried then this never would have -
Tira gave herself a mental slap in the face. She would not allow that line of thinking to go any further.
Tira looked up, took a deep breath, let go of her leg, and looked down. Five wide gashes raked across her skin, but the cuts were not deep enough to cause permanent damage. She would fight again. She would serve her Master again.
Tira leaned back and sighed. She hoisted herself up, and limped over to a flight of stairs. She sat down on the steps to catch her breath and recuperate for a while. She might have to spend the night here before leaving. She should also check the castle for medical supplies to prevent her wounds from scarring. But, if she spent the night, would she still have enough time to return to her Master before the week was through? There was also the matter of bringing back proof of the murder. Raphael severed head would probably -
"...Papa Raphael?"
Tira's hand flew to her ringblade at the sound of a voice, and then relaxed when she considered the words. ...Papa?
A figure walked softly into the room - a young, orange-haired girl who couldn't have been more than 14 years old at the most. She was slender and clothed in the same elegant manner as Raphael, wearing an exceptionally feminine purple dress adorned with roses and white frills. Timidly, nervously, she held a rapier with both hands - a weapon that looked too long and heavy for her thin frame. She held it as though it would grant her safety and security, not as thought she knew how to properly wield it.
Tira nearly scoffed. She had seen such beautiful, decorated girls many times before - spoiled, misguided brats, who only knew the life of a privileged noble. Giddy socialites who thought the world was about parties and gossip and courting. They didn't care that the less fortunate would never know such prosperity, didn't care that the less fortunate would have to struggle just to get by. Here she comes in her beautiful purple dress to see her beloved papa, clutching that sword as if it were a doll, oblivious to the nature of the real world, oblivious to the reality of death and bloodshed and mutilation.
However, the girl did not exhibit the behavior that Tira would have expected. She was emotionless, with a doll-like face devoid of expression. She moved slowly, almost lethargically - not as though she was tired, but as though she had no inspiration, no drive or motivation. She seemed like a girl who was sad and forlorn, suffering, almost tortured.
But all that changed the moment she beheld Raphael. The instant she saw him lying on the floor in a pool of blood, her exquisite and flawless face became with worry. "...P-Papa?" She asked, trembling.
The girl didn't even bother to scan the room - she took a few steps forward, then cast her rapier to the ground and dashed to Raphael. She knelt beside him and began shaking the lifeless man's body. She spoke to him in a voice that was urgent, yet as soft and gentle as a whisper.
"Papa! What happened to you? Papa, please say something!" She continued to shake Raphael's body futilely, out of either naïveté or denial. Finally, she accepted the truth, and lowered her head, sobbing. "Who did this? Why?" The girl who had once been so serene and solemn had dropped her impassive front. She entered a state of severe emotional distress, sobbing uncontrollably over Raphael's body.
Tira watched the scene with apathy. It was not the first time that she had seen a child or wife cry over the corpse of her latest victim. She had widowed women and orphaned children for over a decade - in fact, until she had met Siegfried, she had never known any other existence. She could feel no guilt. This scene was too normal to her.
The only thing that mattered was completing the mission, no matter who had to die along the way. As long as Tira completed the mission, she was valuable. As long as she obeyed orders, she had worth. As long as she satisfied her Master, she fulfilled her purpose. By killing others, she gave meaning to her life. She never thought about the side effects.
As she watched the girl cry over Raphael, Tira didn't feel anything at all.
Tira stood up, and began limping out of the room. The girl looked up, saw her, gasped, and then scrambled away from Raphael's corpse. The girl snatched her fallen rapier from the ground, then raised it and pointed it at Tira. The look on the girl's doll-like face was one of pure loathing - absolute and total hatred.
"...Are you serious?" Tira mumbled.
The girl slipped into a combat stance - the exact same posture that Tira had seen Raphael use while fighting her. Tira arched an eyebrow.
"...What did he ever do to you?" The girl asked, trembling and stuttering. Tira rolled her eyes.
"Out of my way. I'm too tired to fight." Tira muttered.
"Why did you kill him?" The girl begged, choking back tears.
"Master told me to kill him. Now listen - I'm not in the mood to fight, but I have no problem with killing you if you get in my way. Move aside now."
"NO!" The girl shouted with more conviction than Tira would have thought could occupy such a timid girl. "I won't let you get away with this!"
The girl lunged, and thrust the rapier at Tira's neck. Tira was amused. She instinctively sidestepped and parried the blow with her ringblade, but stumbled halfway through the motion as a sharp pain shot up her right leg.
"Dammit..." Tira spat. Her wounded state did not cripple her, but drastically reduced her mobility and energy.
The girl attacked Tira several more times - clumsy versions of Raphael's signature moves. Tira scoffed at each blow, knocking it aside with her ringblade. When Amy tried to emulate Raphael's rapid succession of thrusts, Tira became irritated and swung her ringblade hard enough to knock the rapier from the weak girl's grip.
"Oh just STOP already!" Tira barked. "I'm wounded and you STILL can't land a single blow. Do you honestly think you can kill me? You're lucky it hurts to even THINK right now or else I would have killed you the moment you stepped in the room."
Amy trembled.
"Move aside." Tira growled.
Amy did not move. Instead, she dropped to the ground and sobbed loudly. Tira looked away and clicked her tongue in frustration. Then, she turned back to the girl.
"Tell me your name."
The girl looked up at Tira with teary eyes. "...Amy." She whimpered.
"Amy," Tira said, "you have lost everything you know and love this day, correct?"
Amy nodded.
"I cannot offer you any comfort or consolation. Even in better times, I could not care for you. Such things are not in me. I kill. It is all I am capable of. I cannot ease your mind with sweet lies, only share what is true. Should you live to be one hundred, you will never be able to do anything to bring back those who have died. Child, your Papa is never coming back. Ever. He does not 'live in your heart' and he is not 'hiding' from you; he is gone. He cannot come to you, but one day you will surely go to where he is."
Tira sighed. It was not like her to say such things - perhaps her time with Siegfried and the others had changed her.
"There are two choices before you now. You can enter the care of strangers who will try raise you and care for you, who will try to replace your Papa but fail, who will finally release you into the world to live your own life. Then, someday in the future, when you are old and full of years, you will go to your true parents. However, if you wish it, you may go to see Raphael this very day, but to do so, you will forfeit this life forever, and never be able to return. These are your choices. What would you have me do?"
Amy looked down at the bloodstained floor.
"How can I go to Raphael?" She asked.
Tira raised her ringblade high, and prepared to swing it down at the girl's neck.
"...How can I go to him now, when the one who killed him is still alive? I could not face him now." Tira heard vengeance in Amy's voice that she knew was only a small taste of how the girl truly felt. Tira could almost feel the intense hatred radiating from the petite girl.
Tira smiled, and lowered her ringblade.
"I choose to kill you." Amy said, looking up at Tira. "I choose to hunt you down and make you pay for what you've done."
Tira would have applauded, if she had not been so fatigued. "It's only fair, after all - you deserve a chance to avenge your Papa Raphael." She slung her ringblade over her shoulder. "My name is Tira. I am a slave. I serve Master Nightmare. You will not be ready to extract your revenge upon me for many years. Know that when you eventually come for me, I will show you no mercy. Leave this room and never return to it, for now it is necessary that I remove your Papa's head from his body."
Amy recoiled in shock, then glared at Tira with the darkest, most hatefully loathing eyes that Tira had ever beheld. Amy slowly rose to her feet, collected her Papa's rapier and her own, and left the room.