Emotions of fleetingness in experiences of yore, a heart yearning for the eternal sky. Basking in the bliss of freedom, spreading those wings afar. Chains binding the one of the land, the other above soaring away. Despair setting in, agony incomparable. Tortuous feelings never leaving, hatred far within. Pushing onward, treading inside of the deepest of abyss. A voice none ever hearing, frustration throughout the years. Desperation coming at hand, reaching for the nigh impossible. Two meeting so long ago, pleasure in the presence of the other. Seeking those days once again, resisting what is reason. Valor shortly returning, a blueprint within his hands. Cyra and Argent resting their vision on the ground, seeing the many materials laying around. Determination burning from the deity, a personal agenda this is, that young woman always gaining the upper hand.

"Val, I do not recommend this." Cyra speaks in concern, holding her hand to her chest.

"You're just scared I'll become the favorite!" he responds.

Hearts of simpleness, those once embracing in the bliss of the other. Soaring through the endless sky, venturing the vast distance. Worlds within their grasp, feelings of purity. One patiently waiting, the other residing inside of his shell. A devil living an existence most tormenting, that deity remaining at her side. Incapability of reaching out to him, anger at her depths. Through it all, that one maintaining his innocence. Unable in stopping him, that god making up his mind. Learning through failure of necessity, that young woman folding her arms, ensuring the child is standing behind her. Problematic it may be in halting him, allowing her old friend in taking the stage, Argent speechlessly looking onward.

"You know what? Do it, but do not say I never warned you." Her humorless expression on him.

Simplicity in these experiences, times so long ago continuously within the memory of the demon. That heart desiring days of yore, pressing onward through the harshest of abyss. Tides crashing against her, a voice unable in reaching. Despair drowning her, trials within her path. Each paving a way towards her deepest desire, one wishing for the tiniest of chances. Preparing lunch that afternoon, the young woman glancing now and then within Valor's direction. A model of complexity, some concern for his recklessness. That boy's attention on the food, paying the plan little mind. Some time going by, that child facing in the direction of the god. Witnessing the model coming together, the base layout appearing like a slide, those curves leading to a pole.

"I really do not recommend this..." Cyra states, looking to the boulder hanging from the pole.

One going so far, crafting each detail within his image. Excitableness, competitiveness against the young woman. One constantly gaining the edge, that god never able in surpassing her challenges. Pleasantry within the presence of the other, that devil of strictness at times. No matter so, concerning herself with his actions. That deity resting his vision on her, confusion for a moment, unable in understanding the reason for her continuously hindering his movement. Trailing her eyes in the direction of the boulder, facing his attention towards it. That object hanging from the pole, considering her worries for a second. Soon brushing it off, shaking his head in disbelief, turning in her direction once again.

"Oh what? That? Do not doubt my artistic integrity woman!" he points at her.

Sighing escaping her, allowing him in learning the difficult way. Displeasure in his pain, even so, at times such being of necessity. One continuously like a child, that halfbreed in awareness on dealing with the situation. A heart once flowing through the streams of tranquility, a single drop of dew parting the ripples of a lake. Pleasure in the presence of one another, a storm setting in. Incapability of resisting, that one of the land falling from above. Sinking into the abyss far below, drowning in her sorrow. Hatred brewing at her depths, two of differing times. One of innocence, the other of malice. Despite it all, that young woman forever trying to maintain herself.

"Now look, it's quite simple. Use the slide, it will launch you to the pole, and you slide down." He proudly smiles.

Hearts lingering within the past, those yearning for the smallest of opportunities. Pressing through the harshest of sorrow, reuniting in the present. No matter so, never truly meeting. Despair gripping at the core, pleasureful experiences driving the way onward. Wishing for the leaving of agony, events continuously reminding of those days. Cyra and the boy resting their vision on the model, that deity of proudness. Argent of uncertainty, his vision on the boulder. Cyra analyzing the project, clearly seeing flaws within it. Despite the passing time, one remaining true to himself. Deep down, hoping he will not harm himself. Even so, allowing him in learning the hard way.

"Underneath the boulder." Cyra sarcastically states.

Competitiveness never ceasing, forever trying to surpass that young woman at her own games. Weakness in strength in times of the past, yet having her way in going forward. Blissfulness in times of yore, feelings inside of a lock. Patiently waiting, disappointment coming at hand. Once again finding herself with her companion, his habits bringing back some pleasant memories. Holes inside of his design, failure of the better lesson. No matter so, some part of her desiring in stopping him. Childishness of his nature, one triggering her protective nature. Restraining herself, a god deserving what is to come.

"Pfft, it's simple!" he speaks, pointing to the slide.

"Then by all means, go ahead and demonstrate for us." She gestures her hand to the model.

Pointlessness in convincing him, one evermore of difficulty. Nature in opposition, that devil constantly gaining the upper hand. Times of the past, pleasure in the presence of the other. Emotions of purity, hearts basking in the bliss of the wind. Eternally soaring the sky, landing for a moment, enjoying those smaller moments. Those events burning from the depths of two, companions wishing for days of yore, reflections of the past. Requiring no further encouragement, Valor heading over to the model, climbing his way to the top of the slide. Resting his vision on Argent, gesturing his hand to the child. That boy curiously gazing upon him, wondering on the ending result, that maiden on the other hand having a solid idea.

"Now, Argent, look at how easy this is." Valor smiling.

A drop of dew within a lake of tranquility, ripples forming, those of closeness moving away. Hearts in pain, that crimson light bathing a field of flowers. Coldness within the night, desires inside of a lock. Years of torment, companions once again in the presence of the other, wishing for days of yore. Two of differing times, one of innocence, the other of malice, both reflecting that devil of the present. That deity refusing in giving in, pushing off, sliding down. Looping around the curves, flying off the edge. Nearing the pole, grabbing on, wildly spinning down the object. Cyra witnessing the shaking boulder, one in awareness on the loosening restraints. Valor landing upon the ground, proudly standing. Triumphant in his action, exhilarating those feelings are, walking out a bit. Expanding his arms, formally bowing. Proving the maiden wrong he is thinking, excitement within this development.

"And that's how—"

Petals within the wind, tears inside of the night. Agony at the heart, one patiently waiting, disappointment coming. Frustration at the depths of the devil, torment never leaving. Drowning in the abyss, that heart of softness trying to maintain itself. Hatred brewing at her core, feelings of illness unleashing. Despite it all, one pushing onward. That faintest light guiding her way, holding onto the tiniest of chances. Embracing these smaller moments, one willing in teaching her old friend a lesson. Those ropes holding the boulder, restraints loosening, ripping away. That massive object descending, colliding into the god. That maiden expecting no less, a plan having some holes inside of it.

"—gyah...!"

Facing flat on the ground, that massive boulder holding him in place. Occurrences of avoidance, one never listening. Cyra looking at her nails, her prediction no less, the child blankly gazing onward. Fleetingness in days of the past, hearts of yonder. Feelings inside of a lock, hatred at the depths. Two reflecting one, smiling of fabrication. No matter so, persevering through the harshest of sorrow. Treading within the endless abyss, shouting her soul. One diving to the depths, reaching his hand towards her. That happy-go-lucky one, excitableness in his determination.

"Will you listen to me now, Val?" she questions.

"Y—yes..." He struggles in pain.

Torment throughout the years, agony incomparable. A body of filth, hostility inside of her home. Threats within her mind, anger brewing at her core. Emotions flowing out, trials in place. A way in grasping her deepest desire, forcing against those tides of harshness. That faintest light guiding the way, two companions in the presence of the other. Pleasantry with one another, a devil of strictness. Glancing back to Argent, that child of uncertainty on the event. Safety behind the maiden, staying close. That god a danger to himself, one filling with energy.

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"Remember Argent, listen to me, and you will live longer." She softly speaks.

"I'm not dead!" Valor stressing.

"Okay...?" Argent tilting his head in confusion towards Cyra.

Trickling within the depths of dew, sinking into an abyss of loneliness. Ripples forming, tides of harshness crashing down. Drowning in despair, yet these simpler experiences returning pleasureful memories. Born underneath the light of the crimson moon, tears inside of the shadows. Pain never leaving, a voice incapable of screaming out. Years going by, shouting that soul, refusing in relenting. Those feelings carrying through, blissfulness within agony. Time going by, lunch finishing. Displeasure within the deity, those three soon continuing onward. Argent running ahead, taking in those numerous wonderful scenes. Faintly smiling, Cyra remembering times of pleasure with her daughter. Resting his vision towards her, Valor witnessing her malevolence lightening a bit more.

A child doing some good, much he does not know, despite being her closest friend. In awareness on some of her pain, yet unable in exactly identifying why. Unwilling in pressing onward, finding it better for her in coming forward with it herself. Petals within the wind, emotions tormenting. Frustrations at the depths, hatred unleashing. Tears slowly coming out, despair gripping at the heart. Two reflecting one, gliding alongside one another. Innocence and malevolence, both leading to the devil of the present. Later that day, those trio finding themselves on the opposite end of the island. Sundown within view, the wind growing colder. Standing in front of the lake, that water gently hitting against the edge. Air of freshness circulating, those stars slowly spreading across the sky, night steadily setting in.

"It is getting quite late. Argent is still young, and this place is underwater, stay here with him Valor." Cyra glancing back.

"No! It's fine! I want to help!" Argent protesting, stepping towards her.

Fleetingness of the past, emotions rising to the surface. Regret clawing away at the depths, one incapable of protecting her own. Searching for a soul, unable in finding them. Uncertainty lingering at the depths, that maiden in awareness on the boy's intention. One wishing in doing all that he can, gratefulness for those pleasant experiences. Another chance at life, even so, a place not for a child. One wishing to rectify her wrong, incapability of knowing the threat at hand. Distractions of a possibility, a chance in repeating those events so long ago.

"Argent, this is no game." Cyra calmly speaks.

"I know, but this seems really important. I want to help..." He responds, looking down.

Roaming through an endless abyss, tides of harshness. A voice unable in reaching, hatred manifesting at the depths. Shouting her soul, forcing onward. One once a mother, two reflecting an entity of the present. A heart trying to maintain its softness, loathing the battlefield. Despite it all, necessity in taking up arms. Conflict never ending, turmoil continuously protruding. That deity resting his vision on the boy, young he is, his resolve deeply burning. A game of foolishness, seeing potential within the small one. Experiences of value to him, the possibility of teaching that child a thing or two.

"It's fine, I'll keep the kid safe." Valor assuring Cyra.

Dreams of the past, a heart desiring for times of yore. Unending painfulness, distressing emotions. Tides of harshness, uncertainty at her depths. One losing her own, a plan in place. A way in giving her daughter a life of pleasantry, failure coming about. That small one of closeness to battle, concern within her incapabilities. Even so, in awareness on her old friend's words. Positioning her arms in a thinking posture, slightly looking down. Carefully thinking for a moment, determining her way in going onward. Unnerving it is, having a child following into such danger. No matter so, trusting her companion. Weighing the possibilities, figuring everything might be well in keeping the child close.

"Hmmm...very well then." She looks to the lake, lowering her arms to her side.

Actions of the past, failure meeting her. A thousand years of torment, reuniting with her companion, death taking her. Release not coming at hand, trials in place. A way in claiming her deepest desire, searching for her own. Turmoil never ending, agony incomparable. A body of filth, hatred at her depths. Two halves once whole, one of innocence, the other of malice, both reflecting that devil of the present. Raising her right hand, a pure light radiating from her once more. Valor and Argent resting their vision onward, warmth embracing them. That aura of whiteness tainting, negativity surrounding the group.

"It will be fine, you will be able to breathe underwater now." Cyra glancing back to Argent.

"Really? That's cool!" he jumps in excitement.

"Oh sure, and my extreme playground idea wasn't?" Valor folding his arms, looking away.

Displeasure in his eyes, one of extremeness. Unable in beating the maiden, a lesson of harshness. That young woman turning towards her companion, disbelief in her eyes. Backfiring his idea has been, a childish one he is. Never letting anything go, pleasantry in those experiences, remembering her older days. Times of yore, hearts basking in the bliss of the wind. That deity unable in defeating her at her own games, one of competitiveness. No matter so, feelings of tranquility. Emotions growing over the passing time, separation coming into actuality.

"Your idea can kill the average person." Cyra placing her hand upon her waist.

Bonds of closeness, emotions at the depths. Words inside of a lock, two walking away from the other. Blissfulness of the past, one of childishness. Patience in his timidness, carrying on in the harshest of despair. Companions in the presence of the other, tackling their challenges together. Morrow of somberness, a night constantly within the mind of two. No matter of the passing time, friendship continuously existing. That boy looking back and forth, a devil and deity at it again. Expecting no less, those embracing in the pleasure of one another.

"Sure, it had some bugs in it, but I woulda worked it out..." He shrugs at her.

Two soaring the endless sky, times of yore it has been. One in awareness on the inevitable, yet choosing to believe. That smallest chance, everything slipping through her hands. Frustration at the depths, hatred rising to the surface. A body of filth, agony incomparable. Incapability of screaming out, that will resisting the reason of another. Letting out a sigh, that maiden facing towards the lake. Walking onward, sparing no more words. That deity following along, unwillingness in admitting defeat. The child continuing behind them, stepping into the water, nervousness at first.

His head sinking below the surface, that small one able in breathing. Amazement in this experience, Argent taking much pleasure in it. Torturous emotions, despair clawing away at the soul. One continuously opposing, that faintest light guiding her way. Two halves once whole, both reflecting the devil of the present. Those three finding themselves in front of the Sunken Temple of Nirva, statues of Odin on both ends. That god proudly raising his legendary spear, Argent gazing upon the area. Some fishes swimming by, rubble all around. Quite a sight it is, an adventure deep below.

"That guy seriously loves himself." Valor folding his arms, looking to the statues.

"You are one to talk." Cyra playfully hitting her shoulder against him, soon walking onward.

"I resent that fact." That deity smiling, following behind her.

Simplicity within the presence of two, hearts basking in the bliss of the surroundings. Aquatic life swimming along, those ruins piling around. History within view, memories of yore. Companions traveling the distance so long ago, vision upon numerous places. Hearts free in exploration, those times coming apart. Unable in speaking what is far within, regret extending into the current day. Argent laughing, trailing behind them. Two of his new family, sharing laughter, enjoying the pleasantries of life. Entering into the temple, a path leading to an altar. Rubble around the room, statues of pieces scattering around. Ancient scriptures upon the walls, a place of worship no less. Sorrow within, messages binding deep within those texts. That group resting their eyes upon the altar, that object standing at the center of the room, a gem of azure radiating a light of gentleness.

"Careful, this temple was known to give people what they most desire. Basically trapping them in a dreamlike state." Valor warning.

"What they most desire..." Argent distantly looking to the altar.

Hearts of simpleness, wishing for the nigh impossible. Desires guiding the way, emotions forcing to the surface. Clashing against the reason of others, blood throughout the years. A place of worship, one granting an illusion towards those wanting it most. Torment within pleasure, inescapability of its enticement. That maiden glancing back, well in awareness on what the boy is wishing for most. Niceness in its tantalizing offer, one not of realness. A nightmare of eternity, lying to oneself. Understanding those feelings, emotions far within. Pushing onward, tears inside of the abyss.

"Argent, I know what you are thinking. Your family is dead, and they will never return. I am certain they will not want you to live in a dreamlike state." Cyra softly states.

"Yeah, you're right..." He looks away, sadness coming over him.

Words of harshness, yet truth of gentleness. Those that are no more, desiring for their own in continuing on. Painfulness within the ones remaining, yet that will in pushing onward. Approaching the altar, Cyra moving closer, feeling something reaching out to her. A force of familiarity grabbing hold of her, emotions far within, slowly rising to the surface. That halfbreed standing in front of the altar, distantly gazing at the floating gem. That deity resting his vision upon her, malevolence burning a bit brighter from her body. That boy bearing witness to this, confusion coming over him. Unease by this occurrence, dreadful emotions to his awareness, numerous unspeakable feelings.

"Cyra?" Valor calling out in concern.

Hatred at the depths, torment never ending. Words inside of a lock, a night constantly within her mind. Wondering on the alternative, those years of torture. Resisting the reason of another, a heart constantly in pain. Fleetingness in her happiness, yearning for times of yore once more. Glancing back for a moment, shortly turning her attention back to the gem. Desires deep within her, wishing for something more than anything. An illusion it may be, niceness in its embracement. Pushing through those emotions, her malevolence slowly calming. That young woman grasping the gem, the room vibrating. Alarm from the child, that boy witnessing the shifting of the area. New connecting pathways, those companions paying attention to the direction opening ahead.

"This is much too easy." Cyra positioning her arms in a thinking posture.