Final Fantasy VII : The Final Pledge

Chapter 14

Underneath her eyes, she had black circles. Her cheeks were now sharper and her face smaller. There were some scars over her body and her armour and skin were covered with soot. Her father was by her side all day. The poor man was covering her face with his hand and waiting for her daughter to open her eyes.

The young councillor entered the room to ask what they should do now, "she is destroying many towns and villages. humans have run away but Cetra are dying." The older man looked at him not having the answer. In his eyes, it was obvious that he himself was desperate. "I'd heard that no one can hurt the princess," he looked at Kyra on the bed. Her father sighed, "This is the first time. This creature is beyond our knowledge." he once more looked at his daughter who was breathing slowly. 

"Still," the young man tried, "it is not as bad as the time when..." The old man cut him, "no, it is not. At least she is not in pain, or that's what I think." the young man pitied the worried father. "We might need to run away," the leader looked at him, "take women who cannot fight and children away to the south. keep the men." the young man got what he came for and left him with a bow. 

With a groan, she finally opened her tired eyes, surprised to find herself at home. Her father, whose eyes were filled with tears, put his arms around her and pressed her to his chest. Kyra closed her eyes in serenity enjoying a warm embrace.

"She told me what to do," she whispered. Her father looked into her eyes as she continued, "we have to sacrifice me."

"What?" he almost shouted, "I don't sacrifice you!"

Kyra kissed the man on his cheek and embraced him again. "I cannot even continue our bloodline father, let me do something." he was not convinced. He pushed her back gently snatching her shoulders firmly and stared into her eyes. "You are my daughter," he reminded her.

"And, an Oakley."

"I am an Oakley, I can sacrifice me!"

Kyra chuckled, "Firstly, you are the leader of our tribe, everyone needs you. And also," she paused and looked away, "You might be able to get married to another Cetra and have a son."

"I never wanted a son!"

"I know," her voice was low, almost whispering, "but I am useless." Before he could disagree, Kyra grabbed his arms and continued, "she told me to sacrifice me, and that is the only way. That is my only use," she demanded. "Damn you, Jamie," he whispered and once again embraced her. She patted his back trying to stop her own tears.

The sacrifice ceremony was held that night. All the remaining citizens of the capital gathered around the lake in front of the spiral building. Kyra, in her white dress and carrying her weapons, was standing in the lake not far from the shore in front of her father. The man was standing straight and strong holding Kyra's hand.

He started the ceremony by shouting loudly, "Kyra, daughter of Ohan, is no longer the princess to Cetra," Kyra drew her sword and cut her long ponytail and dropped the hair in the water. She then opened the sword sheath from her waist and presented it to her father kneeling down, "I Kyra, am no longer the daughter of Ohan, the princess to Cetra and the carrier of Zola." Her father grabbed the sword with both hands and tied it around his waist. He then started shouting in a language I had never heard before. All the Cetra were holding their hands in front of their chests with their eyes closed. Children were looking in amusement. While his voice was being echoed in the silence, he lifted her hand, withdrew Zola and made a deep scar on the palm of her hand. The drops of her blood fell into the lake and from there it diffused, making a big circle around her. Her father let go of her hand and stepped back waiting for the result.

The water started boiling and a huge wave, shaped not far from Kyra, moving fast towards her. Kyra opened her arms and embraced the hitting wave. When the wave was gone, so was Kyra.

A few seconds later, the water started boiling again. This time, the mako strings shaped a horse and Kyra was riding it toward where the calamity was.

She was waiting, the goddess of calamity, Jenova, in the ruins of the last village she had burnt. Her silver hair was dancing in the non-existent wind and her red eyes were staring at her new opponent with a smirk on her lips. The horse Kyra was riding landed her softly on the ground and disappeared. Now it was Kyra against Jenova.