Emotions guiding the way, one once filling with love for the worlds. Agony incomparable, treading through the deepest of abyss. A companion constantly trying to reach her, that maiden drowning in her sorrow. Torment never leaving, a curse of an existence. One born underneath the light of the crimson moon, potential hiding away. Loathing the battlefield, wishing for days of the past. Despising her powerlessness, seeking strength. Fear forever branding upon her, hatred fueling her way. A heart desiring in atoning, feelings of complexity. Stepping forward, feeling a presence staring at her. A boy bursting out from the nearby bushes, one no more than the age of ten.
Approaching her, Cyra's vision locking onto the child. His hand approaching her neck, that young woman grabbing his arm. An image most unsettling, Valor unable to comprehend how low someone can go. Living for numerous years, severity of actions increasing. Resting his vision onward, that boy struggling in breaking free, conflicting emotions clashing inside of the god. Raising the child, that maiden directly looking into his eyes. That small one glaring at her, hatred in direction towards her. One so young, corruption entering into his life. Feeling the malevolence burning away at him, that halfbreed needing answers.
"Why are you attacking?" she calmly questions.
An abyss of loneliness, enduring cruelty around each end. Witnessing the most innocent falling into despair, a path of similarity. Days of yore, one once filling with love, hatred consuming her. Loathing the battlefield, yet having to do so. Torment entering into her life, incapability of escaping. Desperation coming at hand, reaching for the nigh impossible. The boy resisting her, trying to break her grip, that maiden firmly holding onto him. An enemy he is, disheartening this is. Never desiring in harming a child, no less experiences teaching her better.
"DIE!!!" he yells, revealing a dagger.
Voice of fury, a heart in direction towards a single action. One taking up arms, lunging at her head. Tossing him into the air, revealing Lævateinn, swinging it to her side. Slicing the ground around her, rubble flying above. That small one approaching her direction, his eyes widening in horror. Striking upward, cleaving him in two. Those halves falling in opposite directions, blood raining down. Disgust in the eyes of the deity, that companion looking away. Numerous wars over the years, one never able in adjusting towards children residing at the center of such madness.
"Wasn't that a bit too harsh?" Valor distantly questions.
Painfulness upon the heart, that young woman slightly looking away. Despising her action, wishing for another way. One once being a mother, a certain closeness towards those so young. No matter so, years upon years of experience. An enemy that small one has been, bloodlust driving those eyes of his. Consequences of a possibility otherwise, a difficult decision it has been for her. An outcome never sitting right with her, silencing the life of someone so young. Treading through the deepest of abyss, enduring those trials. Torment gripping at her core, none hearing her screaming. That faintest light within her vision, reaching for the smallest chance.
"These children have been raised for war, I cannot show any sympathy. No matter how much I wish to do so...these children have only the intent to kill." She distantly explains.
Pushing through the deepest of sorrow, clashing against her heart of softness. No matter so, desperately trying to maintain it. Children no less an enemy, one living her existence in despair. Enemies around each end, resisting the reason of another. Painful it is, yet survival of more importance. Standing quiet, that deity well in awareness on the truth in it all. Sympathy but a weakness on the battlefield, those more than willing in exploiting any generosity. Conflict never ending, colors of blackness revealing in this sick game. Agonizing it is, that young woman pressing onward.
"A slight detour is in order. We find who is organizing this, and end them." Cyra placing away her sword.
Hatred deep within, one once a mother. Seeking the endless wind in days of yore, torment forever existing. Emotions inside of a lock, words never reaching. Agony incomparable, a plan coming into place. Desires deep within, one desiring freedom. Death releasing her, blissfulness for a moment. Returning for her child, failure coming at hand. Memories constantly in place, sins staining the soul. Observing the area, eyes no longer upon her. Safety in the moment, no doubt enemies residing further inside. Madness in a realm of lawlessness, actions most unforgivable. Personal this is towards the young woman, that maiden bearing witness to this development.
"Hmm...whoever they are, they must be within range to stop these children from escaping. They have to be nearby." Valor positioning his arms in a thinking posture.
"I thought the same." She walks onward.
A heart in bondage, that voice screaming out. Treading in the deepest of abyss, none ever hearing her. Tears against the rushing tides, resolve feverishly extending. Hatred boiling at her depths, a heart trying to maintain its softness. Heading deeper into the camp, the stench of blood strong on the surroundings. Countless victims, sickening it is. Those companions arriving at the heart of the establishment, their eyes upon a boy, one about the age of eight. That child struggling on the ground, slightly older ones beating him. Horrific the scene is, that small one trying to protect himself. Cruelty on display, punching, kicking, shouting, and screaming.
"Haha! Weakling!" one boy mocking.
"Trash!" another boy yelling, kicking the child.
"Ugh!"
A realm of lawlessness, those so young committing atrocities. Sins staining upon the soul, incapability of resisting. Enemies they are, disheartening it is. Standing upon her side, locking onto her targets. Directing her revolver onward, those eyes of reluctance upon the children. That companion at her side, his vision of sorrow. Hearts desiring for another way, yet survival of more importance. Those high above casting down their judgment, numerous in the path of destruction. Selfishness guiding the way of one, companions facing another conflict together. Pulling the trigger, unleashing negativity. That assault bursting through, piercing the skull of a small one. That attack compressing, violently exploding, blasting away the surrounding children.
"AAAAHH!!"
Feelings at an unrest, a heart paining. Intruding upon happiness, condemning those to a life of atrocity. Possibility of leading an existence away from sadness, yet a constant reminder of cruelty. Treading through the deepest of abyss, diving even further. Unrest inside of her heart, hatred building at her core. One once a mother, a certain connection. No matter of her loathing her experiences, her own meaning deeply to her. That child cowering on the ground, slowly lowering his arms. Eyes bright like the sun, hair in reflection to the bleeding moon.
That boy resting his vision onward, seeing the two companions, witnessing those monstrous children surrounding the halfbreed. Murderous intent within them, those subjecting to their torture. Distressing it is, bearing witness to these actions. Despite it all, one having in continuing on. No matter the morrow, no matter the sorrow, that will in resisting forever existing. That deity of uncertainty, his hand reaching for his katana. Young they may be, but enemies no less. Those willing in opposing, their stories carrying with their life. Pushing onward, holding onto what they do know. Demise taking everything, each having their own way in going forward.
"Valor, protect that child, they will be the one to lead us to the person in charge of this." Cyra glancing to him.
Will no longer of their own, desperation in maintaining their lives. Reprehensible their actions may be, but certainly within understanding. Painful it is, those eyes of the velvet moon trailing the young ones. That deity resting his vision in her direction, that unwillingness coming from her. Children having no place in conflict not of their own, frustration eating away at her core. Emotions wishing for another way, that heart of softness. Agonizing it is, but foes they are no less. Her path paving in blood, that hand reaching for her desires so far within.
"Alright." He agrees.
Trials in place, treading through the harshest of abyss. Torment refusing in leaving, resolve pushing forward. Sorrow deep within, a heart of softness. Raising a knife, a sinister smile upon a child. Those eyes locking onto the young woman, tilting the blade in her direction, reflecting her face. Drastic the transformation is, that maiden wondering of the one holding responsibility. Glancing to her right, a small one rushing towards her. Revealing a dagger, lunging straight at her. That blade approaching her rib, those eyes of hers becoming slightly more serious. Grabbing the wrist of the child, gazing into their vision, witnessing hatred inside of them.
An existence of bondage, one incapable of reaching for her own reality. Pain clawing away at her, a soul incapable of soaring. That heart binding in chains, will no longer of her own. Those days so long ago, emotions rising inside of her. Malevolence of those children immensely crushing down, distressing it is. Rendering her knee into the face of the small one, blood spilling on the ground. Firmly keeping her grip, throwing them across the field. That child crashing into another one, those two falling to the ground. Wishing in another way, those no longer having their own will. Enemies they are, weapons no less. Standing upon her side, directing a revolver at them. Sorrow reflecting from her eyes, enemies they are, sickening this is.
If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.
"Forgive me..." She distantly speaks.
Loathing the battlefield, forever binding in its shackles. One once filling with love for the worlds, hatred consuming her heart. Despite it all, these smaller moments keeping her in check. Desiring towards another path, yet none of a possibility. That deity gazing upon her, well in awareness on the difficulty in her decision. Pushing onward, diving deeper into the depths of her despair. That faintest light within her vision, her hand reaching for the nigh impossible. Selfishness guiding her way, that maiden dreadfully forcing onward. Pulling the trigger, negativity bursting through the air. That assault instantly piercing through both her targets, immediately exploding. Body-parts scattering everywhere, blood raining down. A moment coming along, that god rushing towards the suffering child on the ground. Kneeling to him, inspecting the condition of the boy.
"You okay?" he verifies.
Born underneath the light of the crimson moon, tragedies in her life. An unlikely meeting between two, happiness coming for a moment. Words never reaching, separation no less the ending result. Struggling throughout the years, desperately trying to breakher bondage. A solution coming into place, that devil gaining her freedom. An instant it may have been, her heart truly feeling free. Returning for a second, desiring to save the life of her daughter. Failure coming about, a thousand years of torture. One understanding the agony of those children, will no longer of their own. Desperation for their lives, living underneath the influence of another. That small one nervously resting his vision upon the deity, conflicting emotions inside of him. Cruelty of his exposure, uncertainty extending from him. A situation appearing positive, the possibility of everything immediately flipping.
"U—uh yeah..." he timidly assures.
Torment in their prison, influence binding those in chains. Hearts unable to resist, falling victim to those above. Those two resting their vision upon the maiden, witnessing her grabbing the arm of another enemy, hurling them into the air. Raising her blade, her vision of sorrow. That foe descending towards her, their eyes widening. Plunging through the tip, sliding down, blood smearing the steel of the weapon. Horror inside of their eyes, blood seeping out of their body, coating the demon sword in even thicker crimson. Pain deep within, desiring for another way in going forward. A realm of lawlessness, selfishness guiding the way.
Countless falling victim, few standing tall. One once residing above numerous, binding in despair. Rising again, tackling the challenges ahead. Slightly lowering her blade, soon raising it. Swinging her sword to the right, that child flying off. Those remaining children bearing witness to this, seeing the body hitting against the ground, life no longer inside of the small one. Turning their attention to the maiden, those eyes of hers piercing straight in their direction. Feelings guiding her way, hatred in her direction. No matter so, one continuing onward. Cold sweat running down the side of their faces, her icy glare tearing them apart. Slowly stepping away, hearts at an unrest.
"She's strong..." The child hesitantly speaks.
"Yeah..." Valor agreeing.
Pushing through the deepest of sorrow, rising from the ashes. A realm bringing out the worst in others, turning children into monstrosities. Powerlessness guiding her path, anger existing at her depths. A heart once of joy, now filling with hatred. Potential locking away for years, that young woman loathing the battlefield. Born from two, one of a deity, the other of a devil. Two clashing forces, both working together. Enemies in awareness on the situation, those unwilling in continuing onward. A suicidal effort, fleeing from her. Negativity rushing towards them from several directions, the maiden stepping forward. That assault colliding into the children, screaming echoing through. That energy tearing them apart, corpses scattering on the ground. Those eyes of the devil trembling, her old friend resting his vision onward in disbelief. Collecting herself, trailing the locations of the energies.
"This is the reason for them taking up arms...how sickening..." Disgust expressing from her.
An atrocity before her vision, will no longer of their own. Survival of the most basic instinct, yet depriving them of even that much. Emotions stirring inside of her, anger building by the moment. Turning her attention to the suffering child, that maiden glancing to Valor, her old friend unable in rationalizing this madness. An island leading to the Temple of Nirva, this internment camp kidnapping children. Forcing them in taking up arms, war of the logical conclusion. Steadily shaking her head from left to right, concerning herself with the single remaining one. Walking up to the child, towering over the boy. Those eyes of his upon Lævateinn, witnessing blood falling towards the ground. His heart desperately pounding inside of his chest, that kid watching her kneeling to him.
"You okay?" she softly questions.
A camp imprisoning those so young, molding them into monsters. Numerous unable to resist, not even having a chance in experiencing a life of their own. Survival of importance, brandishing a weapon against another. Behavior of violence, beating their own. A heart desiring for another way, allowing those children to flee. No matter so, death of the outcome. Hearing the softness in her tone, that heart of the boy settling. Safety at the moment, uncertainty for the length of time. Those capable of fighting, a way in him possibly leaving this camp. Holding onto hope, those pleas meeting a light.
"Y—yeah..." He shyly assures her, slightly looking down.
A realm of lawlessness, the strong living and the weak dying. Cruelty in existence, horror upon their own. Despite it all, those willing in growing past it. Hearts seeking their own way, some caring for others. Establishments of a home, experiences together. Horrible times of the past, that old friend being her hope. Timidness in his approach, yet one most valuable. Two venturing through the worlds, embracing in the bliss of the other. A home of terribleness, adventures of pleasantry. One once of a mother, a certain attachment to the child in front of her. Faintly smiling, that boy slightly older than her daughter. Feeling some responsibility, that deity facing in her direction, well in awareness on the emotions she is enduring.
"What is your name?" Cyra questions.
"Argent, ma'am..."
"Well Argent, you want to leave here right?" she pleasantly confirms.
"Y—yeah...but how...?" he wonders.
Born underneath the light of the crimson moon, an existence of a curse. Carrying the blood of a divine, and that of a devil. Opposing what is reason, yet pushing through with her own. Irrationality guiding her way, rationality in her approach. Finding this small one, warmth inside of her heart. One desiring in leaving, difficulty within it. No less anywhere of betterment, that boy desperately wishing in moving far away. Captors of cruelty, horrifying it has been. Will finally of his own once more, those before him of that guiding light. Even if it is a somber morrow, it is never hopeless.
"Tell us where we can find the ones in charge of this place. When we kill them, you will be able to leave." She informs him.
Actions of reprehensibility, a realm of lawlessness. Cruelty knowing no limit, those thriving for their own end. Enslaving those that are weaker, ruling over their lives. Forcing children in taking up arms, will not of their own. Opportunities not within their grasp, power of the deciding factor. Hatred deep inside of her, that heart loathing the battlefield. Pressing through the deepest of abyss, reaching for the faintest light. Turning his attention behind, fear coming over him. A chance entering into his reality, one well in awareness on this moment. That boy wishing in no longer remaining a prisoner, waiting not of an option.
"Up ahead, there is a large gate there...in there are the ones who kidnapped us..." He explains.
Loneliness throughout the years, a heart in bondage. Drowning in her sorrow far within, pushing against the harshness of the tides. Despair consuming her, desperation coming at hand. A plan in place, that young woman reaching for her freedom. Death taking her, that mother returning, trying to save her own. Failure coming about, a thousand years of torture. That small one before her, her heart desiring in guiding him. An internment camp, devils kidnapping children, raising them for war. Points connecting, familiar it is to the maiden. Conflicts arising, those questionable jobs over the years, everything steadily coming together.
"Tell me, the conflicts that went on around the NetherWorld, is it their doing?" she questions, her tone is a bit more serious.
"From what I hear, yeah...they kidnap kids, and force them to fight." He looks towards her.
"That would explain the reason for bounty hunting..." She positions her hand to her chin, slightly looking away.
"I see..." The maiden standing from the ground.
Those eyes of the small one upon her, witnessing her warm smile. A mother incapable of saving her own, regret deep within. Innocence inside of a world of lawlessness, despair throughout the reaches of time. Selfishness guiding the way, weakness suffering from strength. Extending her hand towards the child, placing away her weapon. Resting his vision upon her for a moment, turning his attention to the deity. That god tilting his head in the direction of his old friend, assurance in his safety. Those eyes returning to the maiden, soon trailing to her hand. Hesitantly reaching forward, Cyra taking hold of his own, raising him to his feet.
"After we get you out of here, and deal with a bit of a problem. We should really get you into more appropriate clothing." She places her hand upon her waist.
Dreadful experiences throughout the years, a heart resisting the shackles binding her heart. Desperation coming at hand, one seeking her freedom. Treading through the deepest of abyss, fighting against the harshness of the tides. A voice never reaching, torment forever existing. Unable in saving her daughter, regret eating away at her core. This small one coming into actuality, one slightly older than her child. Will once not of his own, that boy standing again. Valor thinking for a moment, tapping his chin. Glancing from his old friend to the kid, factoring himself into the equation. Realization coming over him, hastily shaking his head from left to right. Leaning over to the young woman, that companion glancing to him, annoyance within her eyes.
"I am not acting as the father in this whole weird scenario..." Valor whispering.
Pleasantry within the presence of the other, one eternally a child at heart. Times of yore, bliss in those days. Hearts free to the wind, exploring numerous worlds. Feelings developing over the passing time, words never reaching. A sorrowful night coming into reality, that bleeding moon shining its light down upon the two. Companions walking away, dread clawing away at their depths. Years going by, that one reflecting from those times. Covering her face with her right hand, holding in her frustration. An agonizing sigh escaping her, a lovable goofball he is.
"Let us just go..." She aggravatingly speaks, walking onward.