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Chapter 15: Feverish Will(Conclusion)

Gentleness of the heart, anger at her depths. Feelings boiling from within, rising to the surface. Crying out, shouting her soul. Corruption plaguing her, one embracing her imperfections. Selfishness guiding her way, emotions feverishly igniting. Traveling between the realm of the living and the dead, remaining in limbo. Yearning for her deepest desire, unwillingness in relenting. Reaching for the smallest chance, trampling on those in her path. Remaining herself far within, this of most importance. Returning to that grassy plain, her fondest memories of existence. Venturing with a child, one she is barely able in seeing. Holding the hand of her mother, things of betterment. In awareness on the maiden's efforts, the pain in the young woman.

Wind of gentleness, air of freshness. Sentiments in existence, memories of pleasantness. Two of differing realms, one of highness, the other of the land. Unlikeliness of their meeting, a most welcoming occurrence. Traveling throughout the worlds, smiling of brightness. Everything concentrating within this place, wanting those happier times again. Reynas seeing them together, warmly smiling at the sight. Her daughter learning even now, life continuously knocking her down, real courage in getting back up. Both mother and daughter constantly rising to the challenges, those two soon residing in front of the goddess. Cyra gazing down at the child, familiar they are. Wondering who they might be, an idea no less.

"What have you learned?" Reynas softly questions.

A trial of greed, one reflecting herself. Wanting so much, anger far within. Selfishness guiding her path, harming one of closeness. Deepness of pain, memories of horridness never leaving. Wings chaining down, a life of bondage. Death taking her twice, one returning to the living. Unable in resting, pushing towards her deepest desire. Smallness of the possibility, that will in resisting. Light within the deepest of darkness, cherishing those words. Gazing towards her mother, thinking on her message. The past eternally haunting her, dreadfulness of greatness.

"That I have been running from the past..." She slightly looks down.

Running from times of horridness, focusing on experiences of pleasantry. Hurting one of closeness, smiling not of realness. Treading within the deepest of abyss, fearfulness of her prison. Hatred consuming her, unleashing it on others. Quivering of the possibility, lashing out. Wanting those years of blissfulness, warmth within the presence of another. Reynas faintly smiling, progress steadily happening. The end of days approaching, never in lateness of acknowledging oneself. That halfbreed gazing towards her mother, her expression lightening. Relief coming over the young woman, her heart of softness at the base, resolve in reflection to her father. That goddess finally seeing her daughter once again, an entity from the deepest of abyss slowly surfacing.

"I have been so consumed with hatred, with these desires...running from the past, that I failed to see what I was becoming." Cyra softly explaining.

"And what will you do now?" Reynas questions, slightly tilting her head.

Corruption ensuing, one diving to the depths. Blackness of the soul, selfishness guiding the way. Softness within, hatred boiling. Trampling upon others, harming her old friend. Desires far within, sharing one of most importance with another. Seeking times of yore, yearning for the nigh impossible, words never reaching, innumerable years of torture. Running from the past, acknowledging her path. Slightly looking down, thinking on her response. Days of the past eternally haunting her, necessity in embracing it. Faintly smiling, gazing at her mother.

"I will continue to pursue my desires, no matter how far I must go, but this time...I will not forget who I am." Cyra calmly responds.

Countless wishes within, one of most importance. Those once soaring above, riding along the wind. Aliveness in the experience, joyfulness of the events. Worlds within her palms, a deity of closeness. Childishness of his behavior, pleasantry within his presence. Pursuing what is within, remembering herself. Those words leaving the young woman, that goddess accepting her path. Willingness in becoming the Bringer of Demise, merits existing where her resolve is residing. Reynas stepping aside, ease inside of her. Extending her hand to the tree, resting her vision upon her daughter.

"Then go on, make another offering." She softly states.

Memories forever within, a family once of happiness. A trio drifting apart, one going away, another falling into despair, the last seeking the wind. A child in reflection to her parents, reaching for the nigh impossible. Glancing to the little one of blurriness, Maria gazing to her mother. Releasing the hand of the young woman, moving away from her. Familiarity of the one of mystery, suspicion of their identity. Fearfulness of it, yet one of her desires. Facing her attention to the tree, slowly reaching back her hand. Gripping the handle of Lævateinn, extending it afar. Walking onward, stopping in front of the tree, staking the weapon in the ground. Reynas and Maria resting their vision onward, that devil holding her hand to her chest. Malevolence and divinity leaving her body, feelings far within.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Fleeing for numerous years, anger of deepness. Weakness inside of the past, power within a seal. Refusing to endure, spreading those wings. Vision on the endless sky, shattering those chains, taking flight. Shakily flying, falling below, sinking into the depths of the abyss. Loneliness for so long, treading within the blackness. Facing the conflict ahead, doing so as herself, importance of it. A pure light shining from her feet all the way to her head, comforting of its embrace. Golden hair breaking free, reaching long. Aureate greaves materializing on her feet, black leathery leggings revealing up her thighs. Aurous faulds unveiling from her waist, gauntlets shimmering. A breastplate forming, that familiar feathery aurum helmet taking shape. A crimson cape of nobility extending from the lower half of her back, royally shining. Wearing armor of familiarity, ease within her again.

Grabbing hold of the hilt of Lævateinn, watching both darkness and light flowing into the weapon. Energies spiraling around the sword, warmness of the experience. One going to lengths so far, rising to the challenge. Facing it as herself, no longer willing in fleeing. Removing the blade from the land, holding it afar. That sword extending like a scythe, the back coating in scales of blackness, the steel bleeding crimson. Gazing upon the weapon, hearing its crying. Faintly smiling, longness since this state. That devil turning in the direction of her mother, calmness of the young woman's eyes. Placing away Lævateinn, folding her arms, stepping back.

"I am finished with running. I will tackle the future ahead...to grasp what I most desire, and I will do so as myself." She softly speaks.

"Well said, Cyra..." Reynas softly responds.

Tiring of fleeing, tackling the challenges ahead. Yearning to grasp what is most within, innumerable desires. Doing so as herself, unwillingness in relenting. Hatred of deepness, incomparable agony. Horridness of the past, emotions of illness. Embracing her imperfections, selfishness guiding her path. Times of the past still present within her mind, that night of dreadfulness constantly a reminder. One fighting so hard, yearning for the smallest chance. Light existing inside the farthest of darkness, this of the truth. Gazing back to the tree, that object housing so many pleasureful memories. Gentleness of its glow, Cyra shortly turning her attention to her mother once again.

"There is still a chance, to not only stop Ultima, but also to bring back father." She calmly states.

Wishing for experiences of yore, two of valuableness. A mother of lovingness, a father the same. Both cherishing their own, blissfulness of those days. Failing in times of yore, another chance coming along. Unsettling feelings, fearfulness in facing the Tyrant. No matter so, rising to the challenge. Everything slipping out of her hands once before, horribleness coming. Unrelenting resolve, one paving her path forward. Hands of bloodiness, blackness of her soul. Her soft heart, sentiments flowing free. Lowering her arms, everything beginning in the past. The answer residing inside of it, running from those events of dreadfulness. Embracing those misfortunes, this is the way in going forward.

"Then I will completely put my faith in you. Are you off so soon?" Reynas disappointingly speaks.

"Yes, I am...I do apologize, but time is growing short." Cyra faintly smiling.

Hopefulness within the halfbreed, putting everything in her hands. One carrying the will of others, such not changing. A burden upon her, yet one of warmness. Constantly falling, continuously rising, growing stronger. Loathing the battlefield, her heart existing elsewhere. Deepness of her desires, one of most importance. Reluctance in staying silent, shouting her soul. Time of littleness, Reynas in awareness on this. Sadness within the leaving of one of closeness, understanding the reason. Wishing in spending a moment longer with her daughter, this of normalcy. That maiden gazing to the child of blurriness, one residing next to Reynas. Eyes of gentleness upon the one of smallness, suspicion of their identity.

"Behave now, I will return soon enough." Cyra softly states

One existing in between the living and the dead, eternally in limbo. Incapability of resting, death not of her release. A way in claiming what is far within, forcing through the abyss of loneliness. Armor shimmering underneath the light of the sun, wind of gentleness. Refreshing the air is, a heart yearning for the endless sky. Reaching for the tiniest of light, littleness of the chance, this no less enough in resisting. Maria gazing towards her mother, comforting those words are. Eyes of the halfbreed upon the child, the girl in awareness on the limitation of the young woman. Inspiration within that resolve, holding onto the possibility of those times of pleasantry once again.

"I will...mom..."

A voice flowing through, softness within it. Hearing a voice for a moment, wondering if it is her sorrow coming to a rest. Relying on malevolence, embracing in her hatred. Those feelings of illness coming under her control, warmness in that one of smallness. Uncertainty within, suspicion of them. Passing her mother and Maria, heading onward, embracing in the intensifying wind. Everything brightening around her, that goddess and girl gazing onward. Cyra steadily fading away, facing the reality ahead. A heart resisting the reason of others, maintaining its softness. Challenging the conflicts, doing so as herself.

For many years I ran...I ran from that dreadful night. I despised that field...my heart in bondage ever since, but not anymore. After all, I am free. My desires may be selfish, but that is okay...we are all with selfish desires. Even if it is but a somber morrow, I will continue onward, and take hold of my own future. The past is gone, but that does not mean I cannot have such a time once again...in our current existence. Old friend...for all the pain I have caused you...I do apologize. You are truly an irreplaceable companion...