Interrogation

---Katherine---

"Isn't it obvious?" Aaron spat out. "We came to kill you. Unfortunately, we failed in our mission, and I regret it terribly."

"Who sent you?" Lionel asked again, his eyes blazing in anger.

"We came on our own accord. We were going to rid the world of an evil, but you apprehended us." At Aaron's reply, Lionel slammed down his fist on the table.

"Lies! You're telling me that two teenagers decided to come and murder someone with their own free will? You expect me to believe that? How old do you think I am, five?"

"You're a teenager too; I don't see why it's so hard to believe," I said disdainfully.

Lionel turned his attention back to me. "Unlike some people, I chose to utilize my skills for good. I will admit, you were a worthy opponent. I have never met someone who could match me the way you did. If you were under my command—"

I laughed out loud. "You, use your skills for good? Good one, boy, good one. Don't try to lie to me about what you do. I've seen people die before my eyes, wrongfully slain. My friends were killed by the likes of you. I wish my swordfighting skills were better, so that I could've not only matched you, but killed you."

Lionel's dark eyes glared at me, his face a mask of coldness. I stared right back, knowing that the worst that can come to me right now was death. Ever since I resolved to make my last stand against Lord Victor, I had accepted that death was inevitable. Dying now, dying later—it was all the same.

The interrogation went on for a long time. Aaron and I held our ground, refusing to tell Lionel even our names, much less that we were the last survivors of the Rosewood Seven. He was working for the enemy. If Lord Victor discovered that we were still alive, we would suffer a fate much worse than death. Soon, under our defiance and jests, Lionel lost his cool.

"I'll ask you one more time, who are you and who sent you?"

"Why waste your breath asking if you know you're not going to get an answer?" Aaron smirked, glancing at me with a smile. I smiled back at him. Lionel's face turned a hue of red.

He stood up suddenly and pulled out his sword in one fluid motion, striding out from behind his desk to where Aaron and I were kneeling. The surrounding generals flinched and backed away. The soldiers behind us stepped away as well. He placed the tip of his sword beneath Aaron's chin and tilted Aaron's face up. "I'm getting tired of your sass," Lionel growled. "Maybe I'll just slit your throat. We'll see if you can still utter your sarcastic comments then!"

Aaron looked up into Lionel's face without fear. "I dare you."

A dangerous glint appeared in Lionel's eyes. His sword moved.

"Aaron!" His name escaped my lips without thought. With all my might, I threw myself towards Aaron and knocked him flat to the ground. Lionel's sword sliced off a piece of cloth from Aaron's shoulder. "If you harm him, you will never get any information out of me!"

Lionel stared at me without expression, and then reached out and grabbed the back of my collar, yanking me up to stand in front of him. His sword pressed horizontally against my neck. "Since you care so much about him, let's see if he cares about you the same way. If you don't answer my questions truthfully, Aaron, I'm going to give your friend here a one-way ticket to Hell."

I saw Aaron hesitate. "Don't! Don't listen to him!" I shouted as I tried to break free of Lionel's grip. He grabbed my left shoulder and dug into my wound with his grasp. I screamed, and Lionel sneered triumphantly as he watched Aaron's horrified expression at the blood streaming from my wound.

"Shut up. You wouldn't play nice, so we're doing it the hard way. Aaron, tell me her name, your real identities, and your leader. Otherwise…" He pressed harder on his sword. I felt it shove against my throat, choking me. I didn't dare move, but I tried to ignore the pain and communicate to Aaron with my eyes to not give in.

"I—" Aaron's anguished gaze dashed between my pained expression and Lionel's cold smirk. He looked at the merciless blade across my throat, and the blood staining my left shoulder red. He let out a shaky breath.

'No. No, no, no.' I knew Aaron, I knew how loyal he was to his friends and how he could not stand seeing them get hurt. And after all that we've been through, I knew that he could not stand to lose me as well.

"I'm sorry." Aaron whispered, and I knew that everything was over.

"Aaron, don't!" I cried out, shoving myself backwards onto Lionel to destabilize him. Caught off guard, he flailed, and I wriggled out of his grasp. In one step, I reached Aaron and tried to get him to stand up, to run, but a boot kicked the small of my back so hard I thought my spine broke and sent me falling on top of Aaron. We fell to the ground in a heap, skidding toward the entrance of the tent. My shoulder sent jolts of pain through my body. I twisted around, struggling to get off the floor and off Aaron, only to see a glaring Lionel with murder raging in his eyes advancing towards us. His sword was clenched tightly in his hand. For the first time since I entered the tent, I felt fear.

"How—dare—you!" Every word was forced through gritted teeth. "It looks like if I don't punish you, you'll never learn to cooperate!"

A flash of silver, and something cold punctured my abdomen, right where my old wound used to be. I couldn't help but scream at the pain: the raw, blinding, heart-tearing pain that ripped through my body. Something burned my throat and I coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood. I heard Aaron roar in outrage. A powerful whoosh of wind blew through the tent, making people stumble. I saw Aaron break through the ropes that bound him through sheer force. He lunged out for Lionel empty-handedly as nearby soldiers tried to stop him. The entire tent erupted into chaos.

"Stop! Lio, stop!"

The blade stopped advancing, buried three inches into my flesh. I gasped in pain, my vision blurring, but noting through the hazy pain that the voice was familiar. Have I heard it somewhere before?

Lionel turned around, surprised. Aaron stopped fighting. The tent hushed. I could barely shake the hair out of my eyes and squint at the newcomer. Two soldiers were in my line of sight, trying to explain how they couldn't stop the person from coming in. Lionel waved them aside.

I finally had a clear view of the person. A girl. Chestnut-brown hair tied into a simple bun. Honey-colored eyes that were wide with shock, surveying the scene. A long brown coat paired with black leggings and combat boots. A faint scar trailing across one pale cheek, dipping down to the chin. In that moment, I was so stunned I forgot about the pain.

I thought I was seeing things. Gasping through the pain, I spluttered out one whispery word—

"Indigo?"