Septifiria; The Becoming

Chapter 5

   Several weeks had passed in a blur for Septi, who had gone through multiple forms of tortures. Septi, although still strong willed, was showing signs of such treatment, being battered and bruised, emotionally as well as physically. As she lay still on the “bed” that was in her cell, she thought about the last torture session, in which she had managed to cut off several of Steppe’s fingers. Unfortunately they had taken away her weapons after that.

   She had been trying to keep exercising, to keep up her strength so she could fight her way out, to try to keep herself fit. Her gaze slipped to the door of her cell, and she sighed, fighting the temptation to shape shift and crawl out that way. Everyday her determination to do this as honestly as possible was fading more and more.

   Septi felt horrible. She knew that her hair was laying limp in a long, knotted braid down her back, and her already pale skin was now nearly transparent. Dark circles surrounded her eyes, and the bruises were the only color to her skin. Her lip was split and had just stopped bleeding. She was still wearing the bloodstained, tattered uniform that she had fought Steppe in, and she was simply filthy.

   Oracle slipped up to the cell door, and let himself in. He approached her in his usual creepy way, staring at her pityingly. She sat up, and stared back at him defiantly. He pulled over a chair, and sat down beside her. Gently, he picked up her wrist and encircled it with his pinky and thumb.

   “How long?” he asked her. “How long will you keep this up? Steppe’s cut your food to half of what it was. If you keep going like this, you’ll die, or-”

   “I’m not afraid,” she said, jerking her wrist out of his grip. “I’ll kill him, or die trying.”

   “Septi, do you fear nothing?” Oracle said, his voice somewhat irritable. “Death doesn’t scare you. Torture doesn’t scare you. Starvation, pain, and undernourishment don’t scare you. What does?”

   “Love,” she responded, meeting his eyes. “I fear love.”

   “You fear love?” he asked, completely shocked. “Why?”

   “Love requires certain levels of intimacy,” Septi said, a little embarrassed that she was sharing this secret fear of hers. “Letting another belong into your life, in on your secrets, to commit yourself to one person for the rest of your life… it’s simply terrifying to me.”

   “You fear love,” he repeated, and then started to laugh. “Septi, you truly are unique.” She shrugged.

   “Laugh all you like. Getting so close to can prove to be extremely dangerous. You’re willingly giving them things that would be perfect weapons against you if they desired to hurt you. Trusting someone with those secrets, hopes, and dreams is just so terrifying to me.”

   “Oh really?” he asked, still laughing slightly.

   “I just don’t like to be hurt any more than the next person,” Septi said. “Not like that. Now, let’s get on with whatever tortures Steppe has planned for me.”

   “I’m not here to hurt you,” he said. “I actually was wondering-”

   “Oh, dear,” Septi said with a sigh. “What do you want to know, Oracle?”

   “Well, see, there’s this girl I like,” he started, hesitating.

   “Raram,” Septi said promptly. “And you may wish to cut back on the soap operas. Now get to the point.”

   “I like Raram,” he said. “And I was wondering if she thought of me as anything other than a friend, or a ‘co-worker’.”

   “No,” Septi said firmly. “Oracle, you’re-”