Pleasantries of the past, those of differing worlds. One from the sky, the other walking the land. Hearts of simpleness, smiling of brightness. Venturing through the realms, tackling their challenges together. Emotions growing over the passing time, dancing in the bliss of the wind. Reality steadily setting in, agreeing in continuing the dream, yet everything falling apart. Another life of a possibility, but certainly not the current one. Walking down this path of loneliness, embracing her choices. Disagreement on her path, painfulness of little excuse. No matter so, this is simply it, everyone desiring something. A devil no different in this sense, yearning for what she is wanting most. Petals blowing in the wind, the air growing colder by the moment. Ceasing her movements, feeling a presence nearby. An energy of familiarity, her stomach churning.
"So is that it?" a familiar voice states.
Completely freezing, in awareness on the person not far behind her. That voice of recognition, her insecurities perhaps. That or the temple playing a trick on her, even so, this feeling much too real. Emotions inside of a lock, unable in embracing in the pleasure of another. Tormenting experiences over the years, one trying to breakher. Hatred at her core, refusing in relenting. That faintest of hope within her daughter, desperation coming at hand. Reaching for the smallest chance, formulating a plan. A way in gaining her freedom, while also providing a life of betterment for her own.
Coldness in the chilling breeze, that air rushing past her. Turning around, her vision straight ahead. Her eyes slightly widening, one from the past standing not far from her. Ardin, his gaze upon her own. Unnerving this energy is, wondering of the reason for him residing there. A temple of numerous secrets, making illusions feeling like reality. An arrangement so long ago, everything slipping through her hands. A body of filth, one once filling with love for the worlds. Sentiments of illness protruding, those of differing times. One of innocence, the other of malice, both reflecting the young woman of the present.
"This is but an illusion..." She uneasily speaks.
Power inside of a seal in times of the past, unable to resist the influence of another. Anger brewing at her depths, pain upon her body. A soul shackling to the land, wings desiring to soar. Incapable of reaching out to another, agony incomparable. Treading through the deepest of abyss, drowning in her despair. One of the faintest of hope, desperately holding on. Wishing in ending her torment, her own way in going forward. Tormenting experiences never leaving, feelings inside of a lock. Resting his vision upon her for a moment, frustration revealing, that demon looking away. Fury protruding from his eyes, bearing witness to that event, those words of the young woman ringing through him.
"Hmph...an illusion? No, this is real, Cyra. I thought you loved me." He coldly states, glaring at her.
Years upon years of torment, her heart desiring elsewhere. Defeat at the hand of the Tyrant, another sealing away her powers. Incapable of resisting that demon ahead of her, unsettling emotions at her depths. Fear shaking her, that will in opposing. Her body in so much pain, that tiring soul. Yearning for days of yore, seeking freedom away from her torment. One unable in understanding, believing those actions directing to the reciprocation of lovingness. Sickening it is to the maiden, a man of delusion. Memories flowing through her, trying to calm her nerves.
"I could never love you. In those earlier days, I may have been too afraid to speak those words, but not now." She calmly responds.
"I see, and our daughter...you would even take her life?" Ardin questions, looking away.
Agony so long ago, that light in the deepest of darkness. Drowning in her sorrow, desperately resisting what is reason. Pushing through the harshest of despair, desiring a life of betterment for her own. Parting words to one so young, that child following in secrecy. Death taking her, a mother returning, trying to save the girl. Equivalence but a failure, a thousand years of torture. Never intending for an outcome of such, loving the small one. Inabilities constantly within her mind, that demise eternally haunting her. Venturing into the realm in between the living and the dead, unable in finding Maria. Hoping for the best, forcing onward with her own selfishness.
"I only meant to save her...I did not mean for this to happen..." Cyra looking away, holding her right hand to her chest.
Two of differing times, smiling of brightness in days of yore. Hatred consuming her, powerlessness in her most horrifying days. Shattering tips, sinking into the depths of despair. Fighting against those tides, that faintest light within her view. Emotions inside of a lock, unable in speaking out. Attempting in saving her daughter, a mother showering the small one with affection. That guiding hand wishing for her child in continuing onward, even if her own must have an ending. Displeasure in the ending result, that desire no more than a dream, treading down this nightmare of eternity. Trying to find her own path, righting this wrong, pushing onward towards the future.
"Tell me the truth...do you hate me?" Ardin distantly questions.
"For years." She calmly assures him.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Hatred at her depths, experiences never leaving her mind. Weakness of the past, fear forever at her core. Yearning for power, trials in place. Embracing her imperfections and selfish desires, corruption engulfing her. Shattering tips, a single drop of dew hitting a lake of tranquility. Ripples forming, revealing two of differing worlds. Seeking the endless sky, companions soaring along side one another. Looking away from her, anger revealing from his eyes once more. Betrayal of his feelings, his attention turning back to the maiden, cracking a smile of faintness. Expecting no less of her, always the rebellious type. One opposing reason, but also holding onto irrationality.
"I see, heh. I guess we should settle this then, with a proper divorce." He extends his hand.
Coldness of the air, darkness thickening around his arm. Reaching into the blackness of it all, grabbing hold of a sword. That blood of a dragon coating the weapon, his eyes of displeasure upon her own. Painfulness in times of the past, parting with one of closeness. Constantly within his presence, unable in speaking out. Sinking into the depths of loneliness, tides of harshness. That faintest light guiding her path, desperation at hand. Yearning for freedom away from her torment, death of her solution. Release coming for a moment, yet returning, attempting in saving her daughter. Standing to her side, that breeze intensifying all around. Malevolence extending from Ardin, staggering it is. Those younger days, incapability of breaking free. Continuously pushing forward now, shattering any barrier in her way.
"I suppose so." Cyra states, directing Lævateinn at Ardin.
A weapon most trusting, remaining at her side through the end. Power once of greatness, softness in the presence of the young woman. Family no less, even if it is not grand, certainly with the other there can be pleasantries. Sadness for so long, unable in doing anything. One returning from the dead time and time and again, yearning in making her deepest desire into an actuality. Those eyes of the young woman gazing into her enemy's own, calm her vision is. Fury building more within Ardin, that person in her time of imprisonment differing from who she is now. Two of contradiction, both reflecting to the devil of the present. Wishing in her freedom, that man willing in giving her release through death.
Dashing towards the other, ripping apart the surrounding area. Flowers flying into the air, rubble alongside it. Weapons instantly clashing, shockwaves intensely exerting. Breaking away from the other, immediately colliding throughout the area. Circling one another, each assault much more heavy than the last. Preciseness in it all, determination extending. Malevolence increasing, making that air almost unbearable. Hatred at the depths, a heart wanting elsewhere. Powerlessness inside of the past, a seal upon her. Frustration at her core, tears not reaching. Desperation coming at hand, no longer able in taking it anymore.
Both colliding once again, another shockwave rushing through the area. Instantly dematerializing their bodies, riding the wave of the other's energy. Ferociously clashing against one another, a heart desiring in rising above the challenge. Unable in defeating this demon in her time of torture, enduring indescribable agony upon her body. Filth she has been feeling, yet continuing onward. Grasping that smallest of light, ending him once before. Even so, never through her own power. That fact constantly haunting her, fear at her depths. Cyra materializing from high above, directing her revolvers at Ardin, taking aim. Rapidly firing down at him, that demon hastily moving around her assaults. Negativity crashing into the ground, darkness steadily burning away at the land.
Dreadfulness in her decision, seeking the faintest light. Pain on her old friend, yet wishing in leaving him with her last will. One of most trust, a companion of reliableness. Constantly trying his best, bringing warmth in her fondest days. That halfbreed witnessing Ardin disappearing, his energy all around her. Glancing back, that demon appearing behind her. His blade approaching her heart, that weapon colliding into her. His vision slightly widening, his sword passing through an afterimage. Feeling her nearby, turning his attention above, that devil descending, colliding her foot across his face.
"Ugh!"
That assault propelling him towards the ground, her vision of coldness upon him. Approaching the ground, flipping, spreading his stance. His hand touching the land, that demon looking up. Trailing her movement, seeing her descending from a distance. Landing, her eyes unsympathetic of her enemy. Rage building with each passing moment, those emotions of dreadfulness constantly within her. Living through a nightmarish existence, everything of that past, the young woman wishing for it all in going away. Two of differing times, one of innocence, the other of malice. Attempting in maintaining her heart of softness, this hatred continuously protruding.
"You really are serious about this, Cyra." His disapproving eyes.
"Which part gave it away? The gun? Or the kick?" she sarcastically retorts.
Helplessness in those darkest days, memories forever haunting. One born underneath the light of the crimson moon, living in an establishment of highness. No matter so, seeking a life of adventure. One of firmament descending, meeting another of the land. A tree of the uniting point, smiling of brightness in times of yore. Hostility inside of a home, emotions growing over the passing time. Separation coming at hand, torturous experiences over the years. Little words in sparing, hatred at her depths. Malevolence thickening from the maiden by the moment, Ardin feeling her exerting pressure. Her power continuously growing, wondering how far she is willing in going, staining her very soul.
"Heh, funny, I am going to miss that side of you—" he stands, dusting off himself.
"—good thing I don't have to worry about dry cleaning." He sighs, shrugging.
Paying his habits no mind, this battle serving no more than igniting an old fire. That young woman having no interest in such, loathing the battlefield. One born from two of highness, power of grandness from them both. Even so, never wishing in ascending her own. Her father once of kindness, despair consuming him. Making her take up arms, that young woman despising it so. Strength massively of difference, yet challenging him. Some truth in his words, but one also of contradiction. That will extending, reflecting to the present. Opposing the reason of others, tearing down those in her way.
"Enough of this Ardin. Return to whatever hole you crawled out of, I have no interest in battle." She turns from him.