Her belief within, once losing her way. Hope not with her, a small light coming to her aid. Reminding her of those words, carrying it to this day. Continuing with that message, carving her own way forward. Not having faith for a long time, those kind individuals reaching in, pulling her to the surface. Born from two, those from different realms. Qualities from both, divinity and malice. Associating herself as a devil, carrying her blood, maintaining herself. Her echoing words, those with her embracing in this warmth. Glancing back, her vision meeting with the mercenary. His extending sword, bursting through. That enemy meeting him in kind, blades crashing against the other. Frightening pressure from the man, this surprising development.

"Your strength...it was not nearly this much while you were alive...!" Rangald's trembling voice.

"In death, those chosen by me will become much stronger." Cyra's mild tone on him.

A soft heart connecting to countless, hatred once consuming her. Eventually breaking her bindings, shattering an endless cycle. Her deep desire not in fulfillment, her better days today. An entity despising the battlefield, finding herself on it now and then. Her efforts over her years, forcing her way into the realm above. Shouting what is within, engraving her soul. Setting free the living and the dead, infinite potential inside of them. A life no longer in bondage, a heart in the wind, embracing in a future of endless possibilities.

"I am not sure why you would choose someone such as myself, but you have my appreciation." Michael thrusting Agni into the ground.

Living in torment, wanting to save his sister. A man unable to do so, a king holding responsibility. His boiling fury, his black path now shining with light. Others walking alongside him, their warm presence. Raging fire surrounding him, an inferno rushing at his target. Firmly pressing his foot into the earth, Rangald dashing away. Rising flames, that entity locking onto her foe. Bursting through, extending the demon sword Lævateinn. An old weapon, its bony hilt. Symbols from yore marking along it, a companion for years. Blackness coating it, this manifesting harshness.

Its emerging form, dark scales on its back, its steel reflecting blood. Its second form, a blade and scythe. Flames crushing the king, the demon colliding her weapon into him. Her enemy's shaking eyes, feeling her barrage. Her successive assaults, ripping apart the area. Never wishing for this, wanting something else. Those drawing her presence, her heart fulfilling the wish from three. Her rising hatred, closing in on her foe. Her crimson vision meeting her target's own, sweeping him off the land.

Her pure wings stretching far, charging at him. Colliding through, flying around the room. Striking him from every angle, rebounding from afar. Her concentrating malice, revealing dark lances. These approaching attacks, rapidly piercing into him, binding him in place. Ascending higher, her offhand above. Calling one from the depths, an old spear. Materializing Gungnir, gripping it. This long weapon staining in malice, writing from the gods along its length. Locking onto her weak opponent, hurling the artifact at him.

"Farewell..." Her calm voice.

Devouring numerous, doing so to a weapon, grasping its power. Her branding history, knowing the farthest of darkness. An enemy to innumerable, standing against them, following her heart. Her guiding hand to many, understanding their sentiments. These natural feelings, connecting through their bonds. Her vision flashing gold, something more inside of her. Her descending spear, Rangald's widening gaze. Impaling into him, crashing him into the ground. That king unable to escape his confinement, a weapon consuming his soul. His painful screams, this tormenting situation.

"So...this is her power. Amazing...frightening really, but also comforting...." Michael distantly thinking.

One carrying two sides, her mirroring hearts, each reflecting the other. Times from old, meeting another from the heavens. Their grand adventures, these feelings within her. Words never reaching, separation coming on a terrible night. Her years in blackness, wandering in loneliness. Eventually refusing to remain in silence, racing within its vastness. Numerous reaching in, grabbing hold of her hand, pulling her to the surface. Her gratefulness to them, her better life. This devastating exertion, four bearing witness to the king's demise. His shrilling voice, his displaying agony.

"This is your punishment...father..." Luna distantly looking away.

"For the suffering you have caused my brother, let this serve as a lesson to such monstrosity..." Serenity thinking, her attention ahead.

Actions over her years, an entity creating infinite possibilities. Her selfish path, embracing her imperfections. Running in darkness, avoiding shadowy hands. Reaching for the faintest light, opposing her enemies. Clashing with a Seraph, their close bond. Accepting the other, that angel allowing her path. Witnessing her painful direction, that demon becoming the true enemy.

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Grasping her deepest desire, the fruits of her efforts steadily approaching actuality. Seeking to fulfill her wish, yearning to complete the line. In a distant realm, one residing in a plane far away from the others. A tower stretching tall, armor surrounding it. Through the halls, ancient markings on the walls. Echoing screams, eyes in the shadows. Pods in a room, bodies inside of them. A man in a robe, his hazel eyes and short brown hair.

"Ah, my goddess, you have come at last. Still, it is but a moment, you will fly away soon enough." His expanding arms.

His light steps, chuckling from him. Walking up to a pod, sliding his hand across it. Gazing into those crimson eyes, his faint smile. Stepping away, his hand on his waist. Raising his head to the ceiling, relishing in this moment. One from above descending, her presence to his awareness. Wanting her to come, proceeding in his direction. That room of the king, his binding on the earth. Gungnir devouring his soul, compressing divinity and malice. Both violently releasing, shattering the area. Pure feathers falling, the young woman lowering herself to the land. Touching down on the ground, dispersing her wings. Her calm red vision ahead, that legendary spear fading into blackness.

"This is finally over..." Michael's distant eyes.

"Michael."

A light shining on an easel, painting a way towards betterment. Each proceeding in their own path, believing in their direction. These close hearts, connecting in a game of chance. Experiences from old, their bleeding sentiments. Shouting what is within, grasping the nigh impossible. Ruin to come to a kingdom, his wish for it. Setting a faint hope, everything resting in the hands of those remaining. A familiar voice to his attention, their strict sound. Facing the person, Luna stepping forward, her hands on her waist.

"Why did you kill yourself?!" yelling at him.

Two residing elsewhere, losing his way in darkness. A descending entity, her guiding light on his path. Giving hope onto him, allowing his wish. Ending a conflict, yet numerous more still out there. Those firmly standing, doing their best. Lives no more, death being the beginning. Accepting his choice, gazing at the princess. Slightly looking away, expecting her response. Wanting what is within, racing in blackness. Sinking below the surface, her hand reaching in, pulling him above. His decision leading to his current point, an eternity of freedom.

"What's the point in going on? You and my sis are here, even more. Death is simply the beginning, here is where I belong." Faintly smiling at her.

"You know I would have wanted you to live out your life at least..." Luna slowly calming, her hand to her chest.

Innocence in a miserable realm, a person living in naivety. Learning the truth, everything slipping away. A plan by one close, her life no more than a commodity. Two meeting on the battlefield, neither wishing for it. A princess resisting, her echoing words in her last moments. His guiding rage, wanting to bring meaning to her demise. A choice in his hands, choosing those from his past, these normal emotions. Reuniting with two again, a demon making this a reality. Greatly branding sins, hands staining in blood. Words from one, her eternal message, light existing in the deepest of darkness.

"I know...but I made you a promise did I not? That I would take you to see the city." His gentle voice.

A simple wish, desiring to fulfill it. His many sorrowful encounters, stifling his disgust. Clashing against powerful resolves, each reaching for what is inside. Lives opposing one another, trapping in a whirlwind of despair. A promise to one, nothing else remaining. Luna slightly looking down, her face reddening a bit, her soft smile. Serenity observing them for a bit, grinning to herself. Facing the devil, walking up to her.

"Let me guess, this was the right thing to do huh...that's why you didn't stop him." Serenity's gentle voice, her hands behind her back.

Experiences from the past, living in torture for years. Her silent voice, her wings shackling down. Yearning for the endless sky, unable to endure. Reaching for the tiniest chance, racing in a lonely abyss. Her mistake from old, awakening years later. Seeking after her deepest desire, becoming the Bringer of Demise, stepping on a plane far above her own. Shouting her soul, those everlasting emotions. Her reason for interfering, an entity able to relate, extending a warm hand to many. Giving a choice, allowing others to pave their own way.

"Right and wrong is a matter of perspective. I merely understood, and stepped aside for his own path to be made." Cyra glancing back to her.

"I see..." Facing away, her bright smile.

Understanding her indirect message, a demon wishing to see a better end. Allowing others to pave their way forward, creating their own future. That devil keeping these feelings to herself, her slight smile. Both looking to Michael, witnessing his decision. Struggling his entire life, fighting his way towards a brighter tomorrow. His silent voice, concerning with his sister. Contemplating his actions, his ill views. Light shining into his black world, a princess guiding his way. The mercenary and Luna having an engaging conversation, relishing in the presence of each other.

Light always existing in the blackest of abyss, all of us choosing our way. Nothing remaining for him in this world, one able to achieve happiness in another. His sorrows, his struggles. I understand them, this is the wish I can grant you. An Iconoclast, that is what I am known as, those emotions...I as well have them...

—Complete—

image [https://img.wattpad.com/7d609f4da9d76bb51c1be680901d1db644347a69/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6d38516438676a62412d6a7a41513d3d2d313339363535323037392e313766333037356239303562306336613834333335313933303738392e676966]