Times so long ago, emotions rising on the wind. Feelings guiding the way, a heart free from its bondage. Wings soaring far and wide, a soul reaching for the sky. Pleasureful it has been, even through those experiences in a home of hostility. Stepping foot inside of that grassy field, embracing the flowing breeze. That sun warmly shining down, a certain tree stretching high. Maria sitting below it, her eyes distantly wandering above. An endless existence within that realm, the girl continuing to wait. One believing her mother will return, that hand of gentleness, her smiling of warmness. Even if it is an eternity, certainly that time will come once again. Her heart clenching, years it has been. No matter so, one day those stars will align. Resting her vision onward, witnessing her grandmother standing before her. That woman leaning over to the child, brightly smiling at her.

"Do not worry, one day, your mother will see you." She softly states.

A mother unable in seeing her own, despair clawing away at her depths. Times of the past evermore haunting, scars never going away. Joy once in existence, love for the worlds in those days. An action most unforgivable, her life steadily falling apart. Hatred brewing from deep within, those feelings reaching for the endless distance. That child looking away for a moment, her eyes soon upon her grandmother. The girl cracking a faint smile, holding onto those words. Even if the chances are minuscule at best, that small one continuing to believe.

"Yeah...you're right." She agrees.

Events so long ago, a girl following her mother into a place of danger. Horror before her eyes, confusion on the situation. Fleeing further into the tower, encountering that Dark Knight. A mother desperately trying to save her own, that process failing. The small one entering into the land between the living and the dead, her grandmother taking her to a place of safety. Standing straight, the woman turning, feeling a familiar presence approaching. Her vision resting on her daughter from afar, Maria rising from the ground. That child looking onward, trying to contain herself. Painful it is, one unable in embracing her parent. Cyra making her way forward, soon being before her mother, both faintly smiling at the other.

"Welcome, Cyra." The mother gently speaks.

"A normal mother would get a heart attack, if her child constantly returns to the world in between the living and the dead." Cyra folding her arms.

That woman laughing, well in awareness on the truth of it. Pleasant it is, embracing in the bliss of her daughter. Those many years of watching, incapable of doing anything more. That one wishing to be there, yet her confinement residing in such a place. Her time no longer there, but her influence still remaining. Unrest inside of Maria, agitating it is. That girl desiring to be with her mother, one desperately hoping for a miracle. Moving forward a bit, waving her hands in the air. Pointless it may be, but one wishing to try. That grandmother glancing to the child, some sadness in her eyes. Returning her attention to her daughter, Cyra turning from the woman. Holding her hand over her forehead, gazing up into the vast blue sky.

"It feels nice, coming here. Nothing to worry about, nothing to fear, it makes a nice reprieve." Cyra softly states.

A place of most comfort, fear evaporating. A reprieve away from her torment, her heart free to embrace the endless wind. Slightly grim that mother's expression is, well in awareness on her daughter's despair. One enduring pain over the many years, grabbing onto the smallest of hope. Power sealing away, desperation coming over her. One desiring a better life for her own, but also an end to her torture. A curse of an existence, one born under a crimson light. Proud that woman is of her child, pushing onward despite those hardships. Blood of two mighty entities, unscalable potential existing inside of that young woman.

"Hey, mother..." Cyra slightly looking away.

Mysteries residing in days of yore, emotions dancing in the wind. Hatred at a rest, questions weighing on the mind. Those blades of grass flowing in the breeze, that refreshing scent lingering around. A tree standing tall, one reflecting a point of bonding. That woman holding her hand to her chest, tilting her head in the direction of her daughter. Confusion coming over her, wondering what is bothering her child. Those simpler times, a mother in the earliest days with her own. Pleasureful it has been, even so, pain coming to the heart. A parent incapable of being there for her daughter, watching from a distance. No matter so, now that chance coming around in her current existence.

"Something bothering you?" she tenderly questions.

"I know where father was born, but I never found out about you." Cyra turning towards her mother.

A Tyrant never speaking much about one of closeness, his heart falling into the blackness of despair. Times where three have been in joy, experiences of simpleness. A mother disappearing, that family drifting apart. That devil never learning much about one from those distant days, continuously wondering on the smallest of things. Maria resting her eyes upon her grandmother, curiosity coming over the small one. Not much information existing on the mysterious woman, valuableness within it. That mother turning, faintly smiling, a question coming around at some point.

"I suppose, first you should know how I met your father." She softly speaks.

Information residing inside of the past, questions her father never answering. One slipping away deeper into his sorrow, that memory of her mother desperately holding on. Answers finally unraveling, curiosity coming over the young woman. That maiden slightly tilting her head, wondering on such an encounter. Hazy her experiences are, a certain place still within her awareness. A Tyrant once filling with love, hatred consuming him. That maiden desiring for this knowledge, her heart seeking what has been fading away. A hand reaching out, grabbing hold of the past once again.

"So, what happened?" Cyra questions.

"There was one person your father could never defeat." She turns towards her daughter.

Those gentle eyes of her mother, that young woman wondering on her words. An opponent her father is unable in defeating, unthinkable it is. An invincible Tyrant, one felling countless enemies. Feats of grandness, innumerable in awareness on the lengths he will go. One shaking the gods, a resolve meeting the challenges at hand. Interesting this is, that maiden wishing to know more. Difficult it is to believe, but much disappearing into the vastness of the past. A devil seeking answers, finding her way in between the living and the dead. A mother revealing once more, answers coming to light.

"Really? Father is invincible, I never once could defeat him." Cyra folding her arms in surprise.

"Hm hm, he kept the title on the request of an old friend." She looks into the sky.

Times so long ago, a Tyrant once aiming for heights far above his own. That one coming into contact with a certain one, different they have been. A challenge between the two, understanding coming from a battle. A future of endless possibilities, fervor developing over time. That young woman witnessing the bliss of her mother, her father concealing many secrets within him. One holding true to a request, a bond of deepness. Feelings of complexity, value in the presence of the other. Even if for a moment, one can embrace those selfish emotions.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

"When two worlds are divided, there will be a balance. Though, to open a new future, one will invade the other, and thus endless opportunities are born." The mother pleasantly explaining.

"What do you mean?" Cyra positioning her arms in a thinking posture.

Desires of deepness, feelings reaching out. Two from differing worlds, hearts clashing in days so long ago. Understanding of the other, a bond forming. Happiness coming for a moment, a new future coming into reality. Maria listening in much interest, information of value presenting before her. A balance in existence, those with the will in breaking it down. Opportunities revealing to light, an age of prosperity. That mother resting her vision on her daughter, those eyes meeting with one another. Gentle the wind is, those blades of grass flowing along.

"A deity and a devil eternally at conflict, becoming friends over the passing time. Two worlds once apart, now as one." She softly speaks.

Words confusing to the devil, that young woman looking away, trying to connect the pieces. Two becoming friends over the passing time, worlds of differences. A conflict once in existence, emotions coming into actuality. Vague those messages are, but similarities no doubt. Those of the heavens and the land once apart, now together as one. Familiar it is, a reflection one may say. One reaching their hand out, grasping at the smallest of opportunities. A certain one stepping on the domain of the gods, making a valuable companion. Reprehensible it may be, but that devil and deity ever so close.

"Are you saying...I am doing the exact same thing father did long ago?" she questions in surprise.

"Indeed, your father was quite a Tyrant in the older days. Though, he became such a softie over time." She holds her hand to her cheek, smiling back at days of yore.

One of coldness in days of the past, a devil desiring for heights far above his standing. That one meeting a deity, loss entering into his life. Two at conflict, friendship developing over the passing time. That heart of ice melting, deeper emotions clawing its way to the surface. Those eyes of Cyra slightly widening, the maiden stepping back. Events becoming more of clearness, her father during his glory days. Surprising it is, but believable. Memories of haziness, a father so loving in her earlier days. Different he is now, one embracing the blackness all around. That devil connecting the information, her awareness on her father's reason. That Tyrant refusing in telling her of her mother, that comforting warmth.

"Hold on...mother...are you that deity...?" some hesitancy in her voice.

"Do you now understand where your talents stem from now?" she turns from her daughter.

One living her entire life believing her bloodline of a devil, knowledge unsettling upon her. That young woman possessing both the blood of a divine, and that of a demon. A halfbreed, one that is an abomination upon the worlds. A child birthing from the selfishness of two, but a most wonderful experience. Maria keeping her attention on her grandmother, a turn in events. Answers Cyra has been seeking, a revelation most surprising. No matter so, that maiden accepting it. This mystery of her past becoming no more, her way clearer ahead. That young woman living the life of a demon, this of her relation. An eternal nightmare, much floating along the way.

"Is that...why demonization can be kept under control...?" Cyra questions, holding her hand to her chest.

"Correct, the divine blood that comes from me, suppresses your demonic blood. As such, there are endless possibilities within you." She faces her daughter.

Infinite potential residing inside of her, demonization in suppression. Two of vast differences existing within one, a calamity upon the worlds. No matter so, that halfbreed holding emotions of normalcy, resisting the shackles binding her. Those eyes of crimson upon her mother, the woman's expression becoming a bit more serious. That devil wondering for the shift, a reason no doubt for this knowledge. Corruption within divinity, blood of differing races. That young woman slowly fitting together those pieces, one capable of pushing forward, even when the situation is hopeless. The reason of her mother, and irrationality of her father.

"Cyra, I have one request of you..." The mother depressingly speaks.

"What is it mother...?" Cyra questions, slightly tilting her head.

Times so long ago, feelings in the presence of the other. An unlikely companionship, those emotions going further. A small one coming into reality, years so little together. Even so, a Tyrant once filling with love for the worlds, embracing a life of purity. Blackness consuming him, one losing someone closest to him. Years of torment, answers eluding him. That goddess watching from a distance, incapable of doing anything more. Cyra witnessing the unease inside the eyes of her mother, that devil willing to do anything. Light ever so faint, everything steadily brightening in this endless abyss.

"Bring your father peace." She responds.

A Tyrant in those earlier times, one reaching for heights far above his standing. That demon stepping within the domain of a certain goddess, enemies they have been in the beginning. Differences ever so grand, a challenge coming between the two. Time going on, a bond forming, companions throughout many years. That heart of ice melting, revealing a most enjoyable future together. Maria of uncertainty, the mood quickly shifting from one to the next. Struggling in following on, this situation of importance. Cyra slightly looking away, memories forever scarring upon her. Even so, her mother in days of the past. That warmth for a few years, pleasureful it has been. Turning her attention to the goddess, her vision lightening a bit.

"I would do so myself, but there is one problem." She speaks.

"What problem?" Cyra questions in confusion.

"If I return to the realm of the living at this time, you will cease to exist, which is why I need you to bring him peace." That mother distantly explaining.

An existence linking to her mother, confusing it is towards the maiden. One sharing a life with another, time of requirement. A goddess wishing to save her own, but also another of closeness. That heart in bondage, a soul chaining to the world in between the living and the dead. An experience of cruelty, questions weighing on the mind. Mysteries hiding inside of the past, much that young woman is desiring in knowing. Unrest within her, that life of hers hanging on a thread.

"This is your life to live. I cannot tell you at this time, but please...he has suffered enough." She pleads.

One despising her father for so many years, emotions battling against that hatred. A heart desperately trying to maintain its softness, yet the agony never leaving her. Torment for countless years, power sealing away. A point of breaking, those wings desiring to soar once more. No matter these painful experiences, that maiden grabbing onto her days with her mother. Holding the back of her head, slightly looking down. A sigh escaping her, that devil incapable of denying the request of the goddess. It may be difficult, there may not be much she can do, but a solution existing out there.

"I hate the old man, but I feel like I can understand. Very well, I will do what I can." Cyra lowering her hand, looking towards her mother.

"Thank you..." She faintly smiles.

Emotions of deepness, feelings rising to the surface. Those of differing worlds, a bond forming between the most unlikely. Times of joy, events dictating actions going forward. Hatred manifesting from the depths, sympathizing with these incidents. Turning from her mother, Cyra placing her hand upon her waist. That maiden glancing back to the goddess, a foolish decision this may be. That father fading into the blackness of his heart, fighting against the tides crashing against him. Despite it all, that will to oppose taking hold. Minuscule the chances may be, but this being enough in trying to reach him.

"There is something I have to do now, I will return in a bit." She calmly speaks.

"Do be-careful now." That mother softly responds.

One enduring the harshest of abyss, returning into horrors of the past. Scars forever remaining, actions unforgivable. That heart desiring for times of bliss even further back, her family once more. Those experiences with her companion, adventure around every corner. Slightly turning her attention away, doubt lingering within her. That hand reaching forward once again, seeking the nigh impossible. Even if pain will be upon her, then that is okay. A cycle repeating time and time and again, that devil wishing in shattering it. Walking onward, continuing down the familiar grassy field, that wind blowing ever so gently.

Two worlds once apart, now together. This is the fruits of my father's efforts, to achieve his desires, he damned the Nine Worlds. Abandoning his role as a Tyrant, and living a more peaceful life. That is until his world came crashing down, I think I understand a bit more now. I will do what I can, mother...