Emotions lingering in the depths of blackness, one treading through the deepest of abyss. Loneliness eating away at the soul, a heart in bondage. Actions of the past most regrettable, yet the will to continue on taking hold. A world existing in between the living and the dead, lost souls traversing the harsh land. Those awaiting judgment, others trying to break free of their shackles. A crossing point, those ascending or eternally wandering. Worldly desires gripping at those who remain, unable in letting go of their wants. A realm of darkness, lifeless trees lining around. Pavements dark and mouldy, the surrounding grass withering away.
Thick the air is, chilling breeze flowing through. Much ahead, passing the many tombstones, a gateway being a point of division. A way between two worlds, that maiden on her right knee, her head hanging low. That wind hitting against her, the stench of death and decay striking against her senses. Slowly opening her eyes, raising her head. Resting her vision onward, that young woman witnessing the graveyard. Spirits lingering around, malevolent entities lurking in the shadows. Steadily looking around, that familiar deteriorating environment. Standing from the ground, glancing back to Lævateinn. That sword residing horizontally on the lower half of her back, emitting darkness.
"It appears this time, I am not defenseless." She scratches the back of her head.
Pain existing at the depths, that blood moon eternally hanging high. A light of despair shining down, lining her path. Walking onward, embracing her way forward. Those times of the past, joyful it has been. Two reaching for the nigh impossible, companions drifting apart. Suffering ensuing for years, even so, that smallest of chance remaining. Following that desire so far within, arriving at a familiar intersection. Remaining still, feeling a powerful force grabbing at her. Facing in the direction to her left, the massive gate from before. That entrance slightly of openness, Cyra witnessing malevolence escaping from it. Cold sweat running down the side of her face, unrest inside of her eyes.
"Something sinister rests beyond that gate..." Her heart rate intensifying.
Slowly shaking her head from left to right, turning her attention to the other gateway. One leading to a place of horror, the other containing her dearest memories. Moving away from the mysterious gate, making her way down the dark path. A light coming into view, that young woman finding herself standing before the other gate. Her fondest experiences residing beyond it, that devil placing her hands upon the gate, pushing it open. That blinding light shining through, Cyra walking onward. One embracing those blissful emotions, her heart settling. Dreadfulness over the years, that demon traveling in the deepest of abyss.
A mother seeking release, desperation taking hold, torment without end. A certain place bringing her ease, removing her fear. That air becoming lighter, cleanliness of it. The maiden soon enough finding herself standing in the grassy field, that tree residing from a distance. Her mother standing at the base, gazing up at it. That woman turning, firmly holding down her hands. Warmly smiling in the direction of her daughter, a young girl sitting behind her. That small one no less the age of five, wearing a white dress. Blonde hair extending long, pure crimson eyes similar to the bleeding moon.
"Welcome, Cyra." The mother faintly smiling.
That small one rising from the ground, resting her vision onward. That maiden walking in their direction, a smile coming to the face of the girl. That child stepping forward, the woman looking back, a slightly grim expression upon her face. One in days of the past, a parting between two. A mother desperately trying to save her own, that process failing. Grief gripping at the core, despair clawing away at the soul. One suffering for years, wishing in blocking out the pain. That woman shortly turning her attention onward, witnessing Cyra standing before her. Gentle breeze hitting against her, this place bringing her joy inside of her anguish.
"Apologies if I kept you waiting, mother." Cyra softly speaks, placing her hand upon her waist.
One diving deeper into the pits of despair, pushing against the harshness of the tides. Walking a path of loneliness, a heart paining each and every step of the way. Days so long ago, an unlikely meeting between two. Tragedies in those times, yet bearable it has been. Two facing their conflicts together, a night ever so dreadful. This field of joy, two from differing worlds meeting within it. Different they may have been, but that is okay. The child running forward, bouncing in excitement. Those eyes lighting up, seeing the person before her.
"Mom! Mommy!" she joyously calls out.
That small one in days of the past, a girl following her mother into the Tower of Time. A most unsettling end, one wishing to save her own, yet failing in doing so. That realm in between the living and the dead, a soul wandering within it. Cyra turning, resting her eyes upon the mesmerizing plains. Running her hand through her hair, embracing the gentle wind. A faint smile expressing from her, this calmness inside of the area. Blissful emotions grabbing hold of her, feelings existing so long ago. One knowing agony, always fighting against the shackles binding her. No matter so, one place continuously bringing her ease.
"It is nice coming back here. At least in this place, I have some peace." Cyra softly speaks.
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Pleasantry inside of this memory, an image forever engraving within her mind. Grassy the field is, extending for countless miles. The refreshing wind, that scent never leaving her. Hope ever so small in those years of torment, yet that will to hold on existing. Despair slowly eating away at her, driving her towards a decision. Those from differing worlds pulling the strings, a wheel of misfortune coming about. A small moment of freedom, that no less enough. That woman glancing to the child, confusion expressing from the girl. The small one tilting her head, walking up to the devil. Extending her hand, tugging on the coat of the maiden. Reaction not of presentness, that young woman looking back to her mother, folding her arms.
"Why are you here by the way?" Cyra curiously questions.
Questions weighing on her mind, the reason for her mother existing in the realm between the living and the dead. Souls wandering in a nightmarish reality, some awaiting judgment, others trying to reclaim their lives. No matter so, those like herself remaining in limbo. Judgment never arriving, one continuously having to rise. Agonizing it is, a heart wishing for an end. That woman holding her hand to her chest, looking away from her daughter. Sorrow expressing from her eyes, this much she will have to answer at one point or another.
"I am here to make things right. That day you married that man, all I could do was look on as your life came crumbling down." She depressingly states.
Times of the past, happiness going away. A night ever so dreadful, the heart wishing for another conclusion. No matter so, one incapable of resisting. Power sealing away, a victim towards one most reprehensible. Slightly looking down, anger expressing from Cyra's eyes. Her fists shaking in frustration, that child witnessing her mother's condition. Emotions trapping within, words never reaching. Hatred burning from her depths, pain deep inside of her. That image existing within her mind, a horrid memory plaguing her.
"Mommy?" That girl calling out once again.
"If there is any way for me to be of assistance, this is the time. Perhaps if I was alive back then, I could have done something, but that is in the past, and this is the now." The mother explaining, looking towards her daughter.
One wishing to do more for her daughter, bearing witness to those years of torture. A past most tormenting, events shifting, giving rise to the will to oppose. Cyra facing in the direction of her mother, animosity not of existence. Those few memories of the past, that woman ahead of her, a loving person her mother has been. Tragic events in days of yore, those experiences never leaving. A chance to reach finally coming, that desire in grabbing hold of a new future. Holding her hand to her chest, Cyra looking down, warmly smiling.
"You are right, I must keep moving forward."
Dreadful it has been, living through those times. One never able in forgetting, but constantly moving onward. Desperation coming at hand, a soul yearning to soar. Those wings spreading once again, a hand reaching for the endless sky. A devil giving up her freedom, trying to save her own. Years going by, that one from those distant days rising once more. The woman resting her vision on the girl, seeing her circling the maiden. That small one trying to gain the attention of her mother, yet no response in the least. The woman returning her attention to the maiden, well in awareness her daughter is deep inside of her despair. A devil wandering an abyss, her sorrow preventing the noticing of her own child.
"Cyra, since you are here, it means that there is another trial for you to take." That mother speaks a bit more seriously.
One existing in between the living and the dead, torment throughout time. Rest not of a possibility, that will to continue on feverishly burning. A trial coming at hand, that resolve reaching forward once more. Basking in the endless wind, seeking out days so long ago. Minuscule the chances may be, but this smallest of hope driving her way. Those crimson eyes of the maiden meeting her mother's own, that devil well in awareness on the reason for her presence in that realm. Another test coming at hand, one pushing her onward. Turning from her mother, her gaze upon the seemingly endless field of grass. Emotions residing deep inside of her, that young woman trying to block it out.
"I am aware, I simply came to say hello." Cyra calmly states.
Wind of gentleness, wings of freedom slowly spreading once more. Pain of greatness upon the heart, a soul wishing in soaring. Conflict of eternity, one loathing the battlefield. No matter so, that will in opposing what is reason. Faintly smiling, that mother witnessing her daughter heading off once again. The child facing in the direction of the woman, those eyes of confusion upon her. One wondering why her presence has not been of notice, this troubling her so. A small one awaiting someone dear for so long, yet invisible she is.
"Um, grandma, why didn't mommy see me?" she props her head.
An understandable question, that girl having her chance, yet something not right. The woman kneeling to the girl, that child resting her vision upon her grandmother, sorrow inside of her eyes. Extending a hand, that woman gently placing it upon the head of the child. Difficult it is, especially for a kid to understand. Despair clawing away at the depths of the maiden, her soul eternally crying out. One traveling in the blackness of the abyss, following the faintest light. Years upon years of anguish, that young woman wishing for a way towards her deepest desire.
"Your mommy is lost in an endless abyss. Sorrow, despair, she is currently trying to find her way again." The grandmother softly explaining.
"Find her way? Will she ever come back?" that child depressingly looking down.
"One day Maria...one day she will, your mother has always been a fighter."
One despising conflict, a heart in bondage. Even so, continuously fighting against the harshness of the tides. Maria looking back, witnessing her mother passing through the gateway. That child turning, holding her hands to her chest. Gentle the breeze is hitting against her, those eyes of sorrow. Cyra arriving inside of that dreadful world, a place without time. Endless despair protruding, that foul scent strong within the air. Bleeding the moon is above, its light shining down on the path of darkness. Holding her hand to her chest, that young woman faintly smiling.
Mother...I know you did your best, I am glad that you are here now. I feel myself slipping further and further away into my despair. Even so, if this is what it takes to have even a slight chance of those desires becoming a reality, then so be it...I will become the Bringer of Demise...