A Tyrant in his younger days, one seeking heights far above his own. Stepping within the domain of a goddess, suffering defeat. Conflict between the two, a bond growing over the passing time. Feelings of freeness, one desiring a life of simpleness. His world crashing down, that demon witnessing the cruelty of the worlds. Hatred consuming him, one searching for answers. Treading through the endless abyss, that faintest light guiding the way. A somber morrow it may be, but one day those efforts making way for countless possibilities. Even if one must part, certainly they will reunite one day. That young woman understanding this over the countless years, enduring her pain, reaching for the smallest of opportunities. A way in stopping this pointless cycle, that devil well in awareness on the chance. Selfish she may be, but now and then it does not hurt in feeling such. Standing at the gate within the graveyard, a cold breeze hitting against her, the air sickeningly thickening by the moment.
"The malevolence here...I understand now, the more I push forward, the stronger it becomes..." She faintly smiles.
One pushing deeper into the darkness, malevolence growing stronger. A heart breaking its bondage, wings taking flight. Even if it is nigh impossible, one riding the wave towards her deepest desire. Challenges around every end, that will in opposing what is reason. Turning her attention onward, the third trial it is. Valuable answers containing within it, that devil moving onward. Some enlightenment coming over her, a seemingly endless path. Darkness latching onto her, yet it is not bothering her. Accepting it, embracing this influence, grabbing hold of even greater power. Standing at the intersection, that young woman resting her vision on the massive gate.
Memories still residing with her, that influence trying to grab her. Holding her hand to her chest, a certain force saving her. For now, that devil avoiding the gate. Slowly shaking her head in refusal, walking down the path towards her right. From afar, that maiden resting her vision on a shining tombstone. Squinting her eyes a bit, a shadowy figure at the stairway. That flowing breeze, blades of grass swaying. Foul the stench of the air is, dying trees all around. Taking caution, ceasing her movements. Gazing upon the figure, malevolence thickening around it. That mysterious one walking towards her, the young woman slowly motioning her hand backward, gripping the hilt of Lævateinn.
"What is this thing...?" she wonders.
Those traveling in the deepest of abyss, insecurities binding the heart. Feelings crying out, darkness manifesting. A path paving its way forward, those willing in falling into the pit of despair. This pressure crushing down, emotions of familiarity. That figure becoming more visible by the second, those eyes of the young woman slightly widening. Stepping forward, a duplicate of herself revealing from the shadows. Crimson eyes resting on the other, demon swords in view. That hair of gold reaching long, the blood moon shining its light down on the two.
"What kind of madness is this...?" a chill running down her spine.
Two of similarity, both mirroring the other. A heart at an unrest, madness setting in within the eternal night. Wind growing colder, malevolence intensifying inside of the area. Corruption upon the soul, those persevering. Sorrow evermore distressing, emotions wishing in breaking free. Times so long ago, desires selfishly reaching. That double raising their index finger high, the young woman turning her attention above. Fire swirling around, words burning into view. A trial coming into play, one that is most disturbing. Along the way, one diving even further into the blackness inside of her.
One who wants, one who wishes, there can never be more than one. Jealousy, hatred, let these be known, one who envies, a sin never forgiven nor forgotten...
Those times of yore, one bearing witness to the pleasure of others. Her heart in bondage, a voice incapable of screaming out. Happiness passing by her, that devil unable in sharing in it. Hatred growing over the years, her soul desiring for the endless distance. Those wings wishing to soar, that young woman envying so many. Facing the double, witnessing them reaching back, gripping the duplicate of Lævateinn. That clone extending the blade afar, the double standing upon their side. Directing the sword at the young woman, Cyra enduring the crushing pressure of the imposter. Feelings reaching even now, one wanting what so many have. A life of ease, that dream never coming into reality. Countless going by, her torment with a certain one. Anger brewing over the years, darkness growing even more powerful. In every sense, her own energy striking down at her. Closely fixating her vision onward, that devil witnessing the double pointing behind her. Turning from the clone, those crimson eyes resting on another shadowy figure.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
"The trial of envy...a doppelgänger, does that mean...?" Cyra carefully observing.
Those who desire, wishing for possibilities outside of their reality. Joy of others one cannot experience, hatred manifesting over the years. Blackness of the heart, feelings rising from days so long ago. That smallest of chance coming into view, the faintest light in this dreadful abyss. The shadowy figure steadily taking form, pure white armor revealing. That supreme deity, his azure eyes in her direction. Another doppelgänger, two companions facing the harshest of challenges together. Emotions desiring for more, words never reaching the other. Glancing back to the clone, unrest inside of the eyes of the halfbreed.
"I see now, because I have always been envious of others, you are trying to steal what little I do have." She turns towards the clone of herself.
One born underneath the light of the crimson moon, a life once of happiness, dread setting in. A mother disappearing in her earliest days, that father falling into the pit of despair. A home of hostility, an unlikely meeting between two. Times of bliss for a moment, that joy going away. Years upon years of witnessing those smiling others, unable in sharing in their glee. Pain upon the soul, a heart in bondage. One wishing for the sky, those wings desiring to soar. Those eyes of the young woman becoming more serious, her glare upon the double of herself. Malevolence brightly igniting from the devil, crushing down on the surrounding area.
"There are a lot of things I will let slide, but my desires are mine alone." Cyra standing on her side, directing her blade at the imposter.
Desires of deepness, feelings from days of the past clawing its way to the surface. Hatred boiling at her depths, emotions crying out. One desperately holding onto what little she does have, rising to the challenges ahead. Extending her blade afar, that illusion of Valor resting his eyes on her. A faint smile upon the face of the entity, that one disappearing into the darkness. Even if it is painful, one continuously resisting. Deeply holding onto what is rightfully her own, these smaller points shaping her way onward. A bond between companions, separation for so long. Even so, two reaching out, seeking those times of pleasure once more.
"An illusion he may be, but even if he is such, my old friend will never willingly turn his blade on me. Try another tactic." Her daring eyes upon the imposter.
Malevolence concentrating, that air thickening. A heart meeting the next challenge, even if it is of painfulness. One desiring what is outside of her grasp, those years of torment never leaving her. Hatred brewing for so long, emotions breaking free. Malevolence secreting from both, those seeking the endless sky. That clone revealing a revolver in their offhand, directing it at the young woman. Cyra cautiously observing her enemy, that imposter discharging the weapon. Dashing forward, the maiden moving around the energy. Scraping Lævateinn upon the ground, darkness seeping above. Making haste towards her enemy, that demon sword in view, reflecting the double.
Emotions wildly dancing in the wind, the imposter meeting the young woman in kind. Both clashing against the other, intensity greatly upon one another. Negativity releasing, shredding the surrounding area. That clone mirroring her strength, a trial testing the limitation of those treading its path. Pushing beyond, ascending to heights far above their standing. Blackness inside of the heart, one dangling on the edge of nothingness. Returning stronger than before, continuously breaking through the shackles binding her. Slightly pulling away, that clone pursuing the devil. Blades repeatedly clashing, two circling the other. One incapable of making errors, potential long hiding away, abilities now surfacing. An imposter holding many secrets, that young woman staying vigilant.