Title: Blessed

Author: Alicia "Kamitose" Guy

Summary: Of all people, why did she have to come? Why did she have to be so stubborn as to think she could save her sister? Sophitia narrative taking place during the destined battle in SCIV.

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: None of the characters in this piece of fiction belong to me. They belong to Namco.

Distribution: As long as I am credited, and as long as you ask (and let me know once it's posted) then I don't care where it's distributed. BUT you have to ask.

Author's Note: This is my fourth Soul Calibur fanfiction. I've always been fascinated by the plight of the Alexandra sisters and SCIV's direction for those two was just phenomenal. I wanted to explore it in a brief one shot.

"I put a thorn in your sweet side

You'd be better off without me,

It'd be best to leave at once"

Tapes ~ Alanis Morissette

Holy warrior, mother, sister, slave. Each title bearing down on me like one more chain, tethering me to this cursed fate. Each day is at least one new sin, one new soul whose blood stains this once sacred blade.

Why did you come Cassandra? Why can't you stay home and live a normal life? I will fight you if I must. I hear myself speak, and sometimes, I don't know if it's my own voice. I faintly hear myself tell her to leave, warning her, I don't want to stain this sword with her blood as well. I don't want to do this.

Sophitia! Open your eyes! She says, but she just doesn't understand. She shouldn't be here. This is my problem... and yet here she is. She had no obligation to come, she wasn't chosen, she wasn't selected by the Hephaestus to carry out the sacred duty.

I never asked for this, still don't know why I was chosen. I was just a teenager then, a baker's daughter, not a warrior. And yet I lifted the weapons bestowed to me and fought, fought well, far better than should be possible. The will of the Gods is strange and I can't pretend that I understand them.

I used to hear them, their divine voices, prayed and sought their guidance, served them dutifully. Cassandra was never a particularly pious girl, often times I heard disdain in her voice when she spoke of them, and I wonder now, if she was right to do so. In the din of this madness, their divine influence has all but left. I can't feel them anymore. I wonder if they hear me weep.

She doesn't understand why I'm defending the sword. How could she, she doesn't know what it's like to be a mother. Hasn't looked into eyes that are fresh to the world and all its wonders, never held a child and felt the joy of knowing that you helped to create the very life you hold. Has never had to kill to keep her child safe. She doesn't understand and I can't expect her to.

She won't leave! I knew that she wouldn't, but perhaps I hoped she would, just this once. Doesn't she see how much this hurts already? Doesn't she see what I've become? I'm poison. I'm poison because I chose to be, because I have to be. For my family, for Pyrrha, for Patroklos and Rothion. Gods! Why must I always be the one to make the hard choices? Have I not done all that you've asked? Have I not risked enough?

And I feel it, the darkness that has been growing in my heart, it burns, eating away at me. I ask her to leave, beg and plead with silent cries. I don't want to do this. I don't want to hurt anyone else. All I wanted was to save my daughter. I just want to be rid of this madness, to protect my family. I would give my life in exchange for hers, but fate is too cruel to allow that exchange. They watch me suffer, and sometimes, I think I can hear them laugh.

My once white robes have been stained red. My heart stained black and I know I can never be the sacred warrior I used to be. Too many people have been claimed by my sword for that now. I just wish she didn't have to see me this way.

I want to scream, collapse to my knees and beg for a way out. To run perhaps, with the winged feet of Hermes. To leave this place and all its vileness, and take Pyrrha safely away. But I can't, and they know it. They keep me here, chained and tethered, laugh at me and torture me. I try so hard to stay strong, for my daughter, for my family, for my sister. I often think it would be better if they thought me dead. Then I wouldn't have to tell them of the darkness to which I have succumbed.

There is an unspoken look that we share before she raises her sword, sadness and determination in her eyes. She thinks she can save me, and by the Gods I wish she could. Now I have a new choice... I can either save Pyrrha and strike my own sister dead... or I can spare Cassandra... and risk my precious daughter. I hate having to make all the hard choices.

She charges and our blades clash. I can't focus, everything is a blur, I wonder if I should let her kill me, perhaps to end this madness, but then what of Pyrrha? No, I have to protect my family.

But she is family... she is family!

Holy warrior, mother, sister, slave. My blood is tainted, my soul is black, funny... they once said I was blessed.

A/N: Been wanting to write this for awhile. The conflict of who to save, daughter or sister. I think of all the stories in SCIV, Sophitia's was the most intriguing and heart wrenching. I wanted to write what she possibly thought when Cassandra came to save her, only to find that Sophitia was serving the sword they both swore to destroy.