Chapter Thirty-Two: Healing Hands, Harmful Intent
Cloud was up the stairs before Marlene had repeated Aralyn's name the second time, alarmed by the child's frightened voice. Vincent was a hair's breadth behind, while everyone else was left to clamber up afterward.
Even though Cloud had a head start, Vincent was the first to see what had happened. The window was broken, shards of glass littering the carpet like starlit knives, a free, chilling breeze left to permeate the room without hindrance. Marlene was crouched next to Aralyn, who was lying face down on the floor, her body quivering and her skin a deathly pale color.
Vincent hurried and turned her over on her back. "Aralyn, who was it?"
Aralyn shook her head, her eyes bright with fear as she lost her strength, her control over her body, and her consciousness.
"He didn't even come in!" Marlene said. "He just looked at her and…"
"Which one was it?" Cloud asked.
"Kadaj," the girl replied. "I'm sure of it."
Tifa entered the room, wielding a first aid kit in one hand and a thick, sturdy wooden staff in the other. Verian momentarily burst through as well, but Cloud roughly pushed him back.
"What happened?" Tifa demanded.
"Aralyn was an experiment of Hojo's when she was a child," Vincent said slowly. "Something went wrong, and now, all these years later, it's slowly killing her."
Tifa knelt beside Aralyn, pulled the quilt from the nearby bed, draped it over her, and slid a pillow under her head. Tifa placed the back of her hand on Aralyn's forehead, withdrawing it quickly afterward and shaking her hand to cool it. "Why didn't you tell us?" she asked Vincent.
Aralyn's breathing was heavy and labored, beads of sweat rolling down her cheeks as tears flowed from her clenched eyes. Tifa searched through the small kit, but found nothing that could help. Biting her lip, Tifa settled for bringing a bowl of cool water and mopping the girl's face. "There isn't anything we can do?" Tifa asked pleadingly, looking to Vincent.
Vincent looked to Aralyn sorrowfully, then turned his gaze back to Tifa and shook his head. "This is beyond anyone's control." It was said coldly, and stated as an unfeeling fact, but Tifa saw the flicker of fire in his eyes and knew that he wished he could say otherwise.
Aralyn was choking now, gasping for air and clinging to Tifa for support. She tried to calm her, giving her words of strength and encouragement, but she was mostly at a loss as for what to say.
Then Verian broke through, seizing Aralyn's form from Tifa and gently adjusting her so she rested snugly in his arms. Vincent reacted as if to attack, but Tifa stayed his hand.
"What have they done to you, my Gloria?" he asked, reaching into a pouch at his waist and pulling out a small, brown leather wrapped package. "Why did you leave when you knew you would only find pain?"
From the wrappings he pulled a small white blossom that bloomed from a moss-green leaf. Using his free hand, he gently coaxed Aralyn's lips to open, pressed the flower to her tongue, and watched carefully to ensure that she chewed and swallowed. She shook her head and tried to spit it out, her face contorting from the bitter taste, but Verian held her jaw firmly closed until she consumed it in defeat.
Vincent took her from him the moment his work was done, laying her back under the quilt and keeping silent vigil as Tifa continued consoling her.
Moments passed, the creeping seconds measured only by Aralyn's infrequent breaths. At first it was worse. She shook with shivers even though she was burning and she no longer responded to anything they did. Vincent turned away, unable to watch any longer. Tifa held her close, waiting for the end to come…
Aralyn finally fell back against the pillows, her body relaxed and a small, nervous smile adorning her lips. Her breathing slowly became more regular, and over the next hour, her fever broke. No one said a word as Vincent silently moved her to the bed, grabbing Verian by the collar of his shirt and dragging him out, Tifa following after.
"She's all right," Tifa announced to everyone present.
"No," Vincent interrupted. "This will only delay her passing."
The room fell silent, any smiles that Tifa's news had produced quickly wiped away by Vincent's cold proclamation of the truth.
"Can't it be undone?" Yuffie asked.
Vincent didn't answer. He didn't have to. Instead, he turned to Verian. "You will stay. When she wakes, I will let you say what you want to her. You will have five minutes. I will be present."
Verian looked as if he didn't know whether to be happy for the opportunity or frightened. "Very well," he agreed.
Vincent turned and left, not leaving any explanation as to where he was going or when he would be back. Truth be told, he didn't have the answers himself.
Kadaj is the one that triggered it. Vincent thought. I wonder…