Sorrow of deepness, crying in the blackest of abyss. Treading within that torment, tides of harshness. A heart seeking times of yore, feelings feverishly burning. Opposing the reason of others, shouting her soul. A threat of grandness, one refusing in relenting. Doubtfulness of the situation, a devil willing in rising to the challenge. Walking through the endless darkness, grabbing hold of the smallest chance, pushing forward. A weapon of the gods, an entity capable of making her quiver. Even so, a halfbreed not alone. Even if abandonment is upon her, one of most trust still remaining. A demon pushing onward, selfishness guiding her way. Pain never leaving, agony constantly in place. Helplessness so long ago, weakness in days of the past. Unwillingness in relenting, her child of the smallest of light. Wishing for more, that endless sky continuously in view.

Unable in soaring, wings chaining down. Desperation at hand, breaking those shackles. Ascending once more, a moment of freedom. Hearts connecting once again, returning for her own. Failure of equivalence, a thousand years of torment. A great wrong, seeking the location of her daughter. Revolve of deepness, emotions endlessly clashing. Greed far within her, wanting what is out of reach, yearning in taking hold of her desirable future. Standing within the graveyard, that chilling air, the path of ice. Slowly exhaling, her breath in the air. Steadily gazing around, that sight all around her. Turning her attention above, that moon eternally bleeding crimson. A curse upon her, that devil loathing it, a beauty carrying strife of greatness. One born underneath its light, an existence of an abomination. Earlier days of bliss, parents valuing their own.

Happiness drifting away, a father falling into despair. His child of distantness, one meeting another of firmament. A cycle of repetition, those of differing realms. A meeting of unlikeliness, a bond of closeness. Her attention onward, unknowingness of the result, holding onto the possibility of a morrow of betterment. Her heart constantly binding, bondage upon her, that devil forcing forward. Treading down the pathway, desires strongly within. Seeping out, extending from her body. Malevolence thickly crying in every direction, one continuing her direction, blackness concentrating around her. Her vision ahead, her line of vision steadily fading. Finding herself in an abyss of darkness. Her unrelenting resolve, those eyes keeping on her path. A light deep in the center, the faintest of hope inside of this madness, that young woman pressing onward.

"The darkness means nothing to me. After all...I know my old friend will continue to guide me..."

Shattering tips, one treading through her loneliness. Hearts once of bliss, torment over the passing years. Feelings inside of a lock, incomparable agony. A companion of closeness, one diving to the depths. His hand of guidance, that voice screaming out to her. A reliable deity, that one forever residing there. Her gentle eyes ahead, warmth from afar. Moving onward, that brightening light. Blackness fading, that young woman finding herself in a familiar field. Flowers from so long ago, dreadful memories. Recognizable breeze, petals blowing in the wind.

Dreams of fleetingness, those seeking the nigh impossible. A bond of nearness, emotions of simpleness. One patiently waiting, the other remaining within his shell. Illness of those feelings, yearning for more. Awareness on the other, sentiments of the same. Observing her surroundings, wondering on the reason, memories of horridness. Her attention onward, her slightly widening vision. A maiden in gold, that crimson cape of nobility on the lower half of her back, a feathery helm upon her head. Hair of the sun extending long, those eyes reflecting the crimson moon itself. That demon looking back, her vision meeting with Cyra's own.

"What kind of trickery is this?" Cyra speaks a bit in unease.

Feelings of paralysis, eyes of similarity. Armor of familiarity, a heart in existence. One once filling with love, hatred consuming her. Reason in pushing onward, those in opposition. Born underneath the light of the velvet moon, a curse forever following. Despair of deepness, wind of fleetingness. Breeze chillingly flowing, petals passing by. That object floating so high, redness shining down. Pitiableness in the eyes of the person, that familiar one facing Cyra. Visions meeting with the other, a reflection of the halfbreed. Unsettling emotions, that one ahead of the devil.

"This night, the night you loathe so much. You continue to run, eternally remaining in bondage." The entity states.

Torment in times of yore, one never able in facing it. Confronting it within Nirva, yet those feelings gripping at her. An alternative in existence, those feelings igniting. Running from it, pursuing her own way, a soul shackling to the land. Displeasure in the voice of the mysterious one, that young woman in awareness on the rationality. Looking away, incapability of answering. Words inside of a lock, two walking away from the other. Continuously fleeing, hoping for it in fading out of memory. Yearning in moving past it, wishing in permanently turning the page.

"Greed..." The being states more seriously.

Terribleness never leaving, fear residing at her depths. Horridness of the events of the past, pleasantry further back. Two of differing realms, a meeting of unlikeliness. Wanting it again, pushing onward. Selfishness guiding her way, anger at her core. Facing those events once again, shouting her soul. Unwillingness in staying, running from that night, racing towards her deepest desire. Gazing at her double, her remorseful vision. Unsurprising it is, accepting her path. Embracing those imperfections, knowing of the truth of it. Sorrow of greatness, despair of deepness. Those wishes seeking the endless sky, so much clawing away far inside of her.

"Everything you desire is within the past. There was once a time, where you wouldn't have even thunk to go this far." That maiden speaks a bit strictly.

Two halves once whole, one of innocence, the other of malice, both reflecting the one of the present. Sentiments of old, seeking times of blissfulness. Painfulness of grandness, opposing the reason of another. Enduring torturous experiences, grasping the faintest light. Desiring days of happiness, corruption staining her soul. Holding her hand to her chest, that halfbreed lowering her head. Truth within those words, days originally of existence. A devil once of purity, never thinking in committing sins of heinousness. Events of simplicity, heaven and earth once together.

"Correct...there was once a time like that. Though...not anymore. I am tired...either I live the life I so desire, or I perish. There is no in-between." Cyra softly speaks.

Tiring of the cycle, never able in living her dream. Moving further from those days, fighting against tides of harshness. Crying out, a voice never reaching. Refusing to endure, breaking free. Wings spreading afar, shakily taking to the sky. Wind of terribleness, eyes upon her goal. An abyss of loneliness, landing numerous times. Vision setting forward, her resolve forcing onward. Sorrow from the double, her focus on the demon. That maiden raising her head, gazing into the eyes of the entity. One of the past, the other of the present, two differing times clashing in the moment.

"Is the past really worth this? To trample upon so many?" the mysterious one distantly responds.

Opposition of grandness, that heart of softness within. Hatred at her depths, selfishness guiding her way. Casting numerous into the shadows, lives no more than pieces on the board. Agony of deepness, greatness of sorrow A life once of joy, everything slipping through her fingers. Memories never leaving, reminders constantly in play. Reaching for the smallest chance, forcing onward. Cyra slightly looking away, carefully considering her words. One way going forward, her desires far within, that young woman venturing further into the eternal abyss. Gazing into the eyes of the being, her decision of certainty.

"If it means for this endless sorrow to end, then yes. There is no going back, even if the chances are minuscule at best, I will grab hold of it." Cyra calmly states.

Clearness of the heart, one paving her way forward. Resisting the rationality of others, pushing against tides of harshness. Wings desiring to soar, vision in mind. Desperation in times of yore, taking flight once more. Breaking those chains upon her, silencing a demon of horridness. Returning below, trying to save her own. Failure of the result, a thousand years of torture. Unwillingness in giving anymore, wanting something for herself. Kindness still in existence, that heart trying to maintain itself. That double closing her eyes, considering the resolve of the halfbreed. Malevolence thickening from Cyra's body, this pressure of intensity. Opening her vision, that entity reaching for Lævateinn. An action meeting the young woman's attention, understanding the reason. Moving her hand as well, gripping her demon sword. Both taking hold of their weapons, extending it afar. Eyes upon the enemy, crimson energy of blackness, spiraling around her blade.

"Even if it is but a somber morrow, this is something I will not condone!" the double strongly speaks.

Times so long ago, one of limitation. A demon never willing in staining her soul, that heart of purity. Two halves once whole, one of innocence, the other of malice. Events of the past, a path of terribleness. Enduring sorrowfulness, resisting its influence. A body of pain, hostility inside of her home. Time going by, that gentleness fading, coldness filling her. Embracing her imperfections and selfish desires, becoming corruption itself. Forcing onward, reaching for what is within. Attempting in maintaining herself, that one still existing. Malevolence thickening from the demon sword, wildly lashing out.

That gaze of the maiden upon it, a scythe emerging from the deepest darkness. That blade reveal on long, scales of blackness coating its back, steel bathing in crimson. Stepping away, those eyes of the young woman trembling. Glancing to her demon sword, hearing the crying of the blade. Two weapons intensely radiating malice, energies clashing against the other. Standing on her side, that entity proudly directing Lævateinn at the demon ahead. A trial in place, unsettling emotions within the halfbreed. Pressure of immensity, wind of coldness.

"The time for judgment is now." She glares at the maiden.

One from times of yore, two in opposition of the other. Softness of the one from the land, a halfbreed birthing from two. Heart in relation to her mother, determination reflecting her father. Opposing the rationality of others, maintaining her reason in going forward. An abomination of a birth, a trial in place. Corruption of deepness, facing a reflection of herself. Seeking times of yore, paving her path through actions of deplorableness. Cold sweat running down the side of the maiden's face, energy intensely crushing down on her. That double raising her weapon high, that blade glimmering in the moonlight.

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"One who desires..." She instantly sweeps her weapon across the land.

Impact of devastation, Cyra narrowly blocking the attack. Force of immensity, that young woman flying across the area. That intensity rendering the land asunder, that devil opening her eyes, flipping onto her feet. Power of grandness, pressure shaking her. Unsettling feelings, heaviness of the air. Her attention above, that being descending on the young woman. Those in opposition of the other, two halves once whole. One of innocence, the other of malice, both in reflection. That enemy approaching, Cyra dashing away, narrowly avoiding the assault. That double crashing down on the field, the surroundings tearing apart, massive rocky objects flying above. Standing from below, turning in the direction of the halfbreed. A foe of greatness, this no less the beginning, Cyra gazing upon the enemy.

"I was never this powerful...what is going on here...?" she steps back, tension rising inside of her.

"You only desire, power hungry, trampling upon anyone who resists you. You are not me, but a monster." That being disgustingly states, slightly looking away.

Times of the past, helplessness in days of yore. Power inside of a seal, unable in screaming out. Drowning in her sorrow, wishing for more. Yearning in spreading her wings, wanting her dream. Desperation at hand, breaking those shackles, taking flight. Returning for her own, failure of the result, a thousand years of torture. Awakening once more, pursuing what is within. Wishing for strength, emotions never leaving her. Shakiness within, her heart quivering so far. Hatred at her depths, that heart of softness trying to maintain itself. That double keeping her glare upon the young woman, one wanting, becoming power hungry.

Trampling upon her enemies, embracing her imperfections and selfishness. Harming numerous in her path, all for a chance to grasp her deepest desire. Hearts of colorfulness, despair of greatness. Emotions of deepness, hatred of grandness. Unsettling emotions within the night, dreadfulness around every end. Feelings reaching far, extending to that realm of pleasantry. Reynas standing underneath the tree, gazing upon it. Holding her hand to her chest, in awareness on the trial. Concern within her eyes, a test of valuableness. Painfulness of it, Cyra experiencing the weight of her sins.

"Cyra...will you let your greed consume you? Or will you rise above it?" she softly speaks.

Pushing onward, resisting the reason of others. A heart of softness, despair consuming the young woman. One loathing the battlefield, anger boiling at her depths. Embracing her imperfections and selfish desires, corrupting her soul every step of the way. Greed at her depths, a trial in place. Maria standing behind the goddess, hearing of those words, worries from the child. Turning away, anything no less better than nothing. That woman facing the girl, actions of normalcy. One loving her mother, idolizing her, horridness at hand.

"Maria, you must be patient." Reynas softly speaks.

A test in progress, difficulty within it. One once filling with love, hatred consuming her. Willingness in staining her soul, unrelenting resolve forcing onward. Lovingness in times of yore, a hand of gentleness. Smiling in the direction to her own, deepness of pain. Truth never in existence, putting on a deceptive front. That girl cherishing her mother, refusing in complying, facing onward. Littleness in her actions, trying to support the maiden in any way. That goddess looking away, understanding the girl's concern. Terribleness of the situation, dearness of one of closeness.

"I suppose...if there is any chance...then you can find it, Maria..." Reynas distantly speaks.

Harshness of actuality, one pressing forward, opposing the reason of others. Trials in place, corruption plaguing her. Awakening after so long, crying out. Wings spreading, shattering those shackles. Flying once more, resisting the wind of horribleness. Falling below, sinking into the abyss, tides of harshness crashing against her. That flowery field of terribleness, petals flowing in the wind. Damage of intensity upon the area. Wounds deeply cutting into the ground, Cyra catching her breath. That double without limitation, a pacing most unsettling. Defeat of a possibility, unable in leveling the playing field.

"There must be a way to close this gap..." She slightly flinches, stepping away.

One going so far, unwillingness in relenting. Pushing forward, trampling on those within her path. Horridness of the past, agony on the body. Hatred at her depths, innumerable feelings breaking free. Resisting the deities, reaching for her deepest desire. That faintest light guiding her path, corruption ensuing. Tests within her direction, surpassing one after the next. Difficulty within the current one, that halfbreed gazing onward, seeing the back of the entity. Breeze of gentleness hitting against her, malevolence crushing around the young woman, hardness in breathing the air.

"In order to move on, one must accept the past. You are a danger not only to yourself, but everyone around you." That being glancing back to Cyra.

Fleeing from days of yore, horribleness so long ago. Shakiness of her wings, unwillingness in enduring. Nightmarish experiences, moving past it. Trying to claim her happiest days again, confronting one of terribleness. Shouting her soul, anger fueling through her. Fear at her core, yet that resolve never relenting. Thinking on the words of the double, truth within it. One pressing onward, her selfishness of importance, uncaring for others inside of the crossfire. Seeking times of pleasantry, diving deeper into the abyss, that smallest of light leading her path.

"Valor, he would follow you into the harshest of scenarios, yet all you have are selfish desires. You continue to do him harm." That entity states, sorrow in her voice.

"I see now..." Cyra lowering her head.

Memories so long ago, events constantly within. Nightmarish experiences never ceasing, anger continuously within her. Two halves once whole, one of innocence, the other of malice. Parallel to the other, hearts of the same. Paths of differences, two of similarity. Gentleness so long ago, smiling once of brightness. A hand of guidance, blissfulness seeping into actuality. Turning in the direction of the maiden, that double awaiting her response. Words determining judgment to come, that surrounding air intensifying in its weight. That moon of highness, cursing the night in its beautiful light, shining down on them.

"You...are a reflection of myself...both good and bad..." Cyra looking towards her.

Dreams of fleetingness, emotions of deepness. A heart yearning for the nigh impossible, times of horridness continuously existing. Actions of deplorableness, that maiden unwilling in enduring. Planning in place, deepness of pain. Death taking her, horribleness on her companion. Release coming, wings spreading once again, power unsealing. Returning for her own, destroying a Dark Knight. Equivalence of a failure, a thousand years of torture. Remembering after so long, pushing onward, trying to claim her deepest desire. Sorrowfulness of the young woman's eyes, vision locking onto the double. A reflection of the halfbreed, both positive and negative. One in representation at her base, that entity of kindness.

"Correct, continue." She calmly speaks.

Pushing against the tides of harshness, sinking below. Walking in an abyss of loneliness, a voice unable in reaching. One continuously diving, trying to bring her to the surface. Incapability of doing so, deepness of pain. Horribleness constantly with her, a body of filth. Selfishness guiding her way, resolve feverishly protruding. Cyra gazing into the blood moon, that object plaguing her nightmare. Everlasting light shining down upon the land, mirroring her sorrow far inside. Dreadfulness at her core, innumerous feelings clawing its way above.

"That moon...it cannot leave huh. From the day of my birth, we have been connected." She distantly speaks.

Born underneath the light of the crimson moon, a curse of an existence. A halfbreed from two, one of highness, the other of the earth. Happiness for a moment, despair setting in. A Tyrant falling into despair, that father of lovingness going away. Making her taking up arms, that young woman never able in meeting her potential. Loathing the battlefield, her heart residing elsewhere. Punishment at hand, an action of reprehensibility. Unwillingness in forgiving him, anger at her depths. That double looking into the velvet moon, that bleeding red color. A view never leaving, eternally engraving itself on the devil.

"Correct."

Feelings of fleetingness, one able in living a life of happiness. Hostility inside of her home, freedom with her companion. Two venturing the realms, embracing in the pleasure of the other. Forcing onward, tackling their challenges together. Emotions growing over the passing time, two eventually separating. That moon cursing the night, forever remaining. Bringing dreadfulness in its wake, an object fitting for an abomination. Agonizing sentiments striking far inside of her, swimming in an endless sea of despair. Resisting tides of horribleness, her vision on the faintest light.

"You are wrong though..."

Hopefulness of deepness, resolve feverishly igniting. Tragedies throughout the years, never ending conflict. A voice unable in screaming, frustration at her depths. Breaking those chains, spreading her wings, taking flight once again. Wind of freedom, shakiness in maintaining her height. Returning below, trying to save her own. Words of gentleness, vision on the double. Confusion of the being, more no less than what she is enduring. Closely paying attention, those eyes of the devil steadily settling. Staining her soul in blackness, reaching for the tiniest of chances, opposing the reason of others.

"My desires may be selfish, and I know I have done harm onto my old friend, but I am forever grateful to him. After all...what we desire most is one and the same." Cyra calmly looking towards the entity.

Venturing through the worlds, emotions towards the other. Feelings of deepness, words inside of a lock. A horrible night, wind never leaving. Petals passing the line of sight, yearning for an alternative. Strife of greatness, unwillingness in enduring. Sentiments throughout time, harshness of reality. Simpleness of their deepest desire, numerous more in between. That double thinking for a moment, malevolence of difference from the maiden. Ease within the blackness, that entity resting her vision past the young woman, Maria residing from a distance. Faintly smiling, confusion from the demon, wondering on the occurrence of pleasantry.

"Remember, never forget who you are. If you intend to go down this path, then so be it. However, do so as yourself." She softly states.

Path in decision, a heart of softness at the depths. Corruption staining her soul, her way in going forward. Smallness of hope, pushing through the abyss. Shouting her soul, unrelenting resolve. Opposing the reason of others, trying to maintain herself. A trial of reflection, dreadfulness far within. Two of differing times, one of lovingness, another of hatred, both in representation of the present. A presence nearby coming to the awareness on the halfbreed, the young woman glancing behind. That blurry image of the child, her vision distantly upon them. Thinking for a moment, faintly smiling, gazing to the being.

"Always..."

A heart once of colorfulness, anger boiling at her depths. Gentleness steadily returning, one remaining themselves. No matter the morrow, no matter the sorrow, one continuously forcing onward. Resisting the rationality of others, paving her own way going forward. Sadness of grandness, agony incomparable, determination feverishly igniting. Energy of purity leaving the entity, that double fading away. That force moving towards Cyra, Maria seeing her mother grasping the formless aura. Holding it to her chest, closing her eyes, feeling it assimilating into her body.

Ease in this warmth, a sense of fulfillment coming over her. Selfishness of her desires, one remaining herself. Time continuously moving on, that young woman pushing onward, doing so as herself. Lowering her hands to her side, gazing ahead, that flowery field restoring itself. Strangeness of it, a night eternally of torment, niceness of its presence. Slowly inhaling and exhaling, turning away from the scene. Cyra heading forward, passing the child of blurriness. Stopping for moment, glancing back to them.

"Come on, let us return." She softly speaks.

Suspicion of greatness, a heart of fearfulness. Failure of the past, this one continuously looking over her. Reaching for the nigh impossible, spreading those wings. Shattering those chains, ascending above. Falling below, sinking into the depths. Sentiments of the past, innocence within the night. Facing her mother, surprise in her eyes. Smiling, Maria joyously following behind the maiden. No matter of the path, one achieving their way as themselves, this of most importance. Worlds crumbling of a possibility, that young woman continuing forward as herself.

The greed within me has been acknowledged. No matter the path ahead, even if I must pave my way with blood, then so be it. So long as I do so as myself, so long as I remain who I am, then certainly there is hope. I am no hero, far from it really, but even so, it does not matter. After all, these desires of mine will serve as a means towards tomorrow. That is who I am, one who soars, one who surpasses their limitations. One who possesses a heart of softness...