Warmness of the sun, birds soaring along. Sounds up high, freshness all around. Pureness of these experiences, a heart yearning for the nigh impossible. Resisting the reason of deities, rising to the challenge. Hopefulness of the conflict, resting of necessity. Endlessness so long ago, reaching for the faintest of chances. Light within the darkness, words of worth. Argent gazing to the god, uncertainty in breaking the news. Excitableness of easiness, nature of childishness. Quickness in getting over it of a possibility, wishing for this no less. A case of specialness one can say, a man refusing in growing up, staying a pleasureful person.

"Sorry...but sis is cooler." He props his head towards Valor.

"Sis? The hell did I miss in these past ten minutes?!" Valor speaks in shock, looking to Cyra.

Time constantly changing, smaller moments in holding onto. Desiring for simplicity of yore, once missing the beat. A night of dreadfulness, frustration at the core. Tears in the void, a voice unable in gaining assistance. Strength within, resolve of deepness. Unable in enduring, wings spreading afar, shattering the chains binding them. Escaping for a bit, returning below. A process continuously repeating, yet a path of narrowness revealing. Rising from the ground, that maiden facing in his direction. Proudly raising herself, his humorless gaze on her, in awareness on her far too well. Clearness in her capability in pulling one over him, passing his realization. Constantly one-upping him, her endless mischievous habits.

"Face it Val, big sis is more popular than you." She teases, leaning to him, poking his nose.

"You one-up me when I wasn't aware huh..." He suspiciously states, his face slightly reddening.

Companions of closeness, points never changing. Tides of harshness, despair of greatness. Pushing onward, moments of smallness giving hope. Emotions still existing, a body not of her own. Conflicting sentiments, embracing in the present. Playfully moving around to his side, that deity holding the edge of his head in disbelief. Expectance of her action, such not occurring at the time. Signs everywhere during the previous week or so, nearness of two. Her message not long ago, these connecting elements. One constantly ahead, her companion trailing behind.

"Hehe, maybe." Cyra lightly hitting her shoulder against him.

Animals scurrying along, some stopping, looking at the two. Wind flowing along, pleasantry within the area. Yearning for what is so far away, a path towards that deepest desire. Trials in place, searching for her daughter. Suspicion in mind, fearfulness within. Confronting her past, facing her father. Fleeing for so long, Greed challenging her. No longer willing in running, armor materializing once again. Lævateinn evolving, a heart trying to maintain its softness. That halfbreed heading onward, waving him off without turning in his direction. Holding his hands to his chest, frustration inside of him. His old friend continuously gaining one over him, that one of firmament refusing in accepting this, pointing at her.

"Oh this is so not over you devil woman!" Valor declaring, following behind her.

Dreams of fleetingness, those once venturing the worlds. Two of differing realms, a meeting of unlikeliness. Sadness within the life of the land, comfort in her companion. Years of blissfulness, making her own way. Underneath the watchful eye of the Tyrant, incapability of escaping. Returning, trying to bring her father back. Constantly failing, punishment towards her. One loathing the battlefield, a heart once filling with love for the worlds. Hatred consuming her, desires feverishly igniting numerous years later. Argent resting his vision upon the duo, uncertainty of their relationship. Friends it is appearing, difficulty in telling. Closeness in one instance, opposition in the next.

"I can't tell if they like or hate each other..." Argent states, following along, confusion far inside of him.

A moment of happiness, those of nearness. Squabbles of littleness, events connecting to the present. Mischievousness from the land, innocence of the heavens. Words of indirectness, feelings of openness. Guilt of deepness, wrongs in righting. Dreams far within, desires yearning for the surface. Valor pressing onward, numerous questions upon the maiden. Making their way towards the park, that one of firmament time stamping everything between the meeting of Argent, towards the revelation not long ago. Dancing around the questions, frustration of the deity, that devil continuously torturing him. That one of smallness gazing back and forth, uncertainness of the situation. Hearts once soaring in the wind, seeking days of yore. Experiences of smallness, a chance in making it into an actuality.

That faintest light guiding the way, challenges on the way. One rising, opposing the reason of others. Maintaining herself, embracing her selfishness. Proceeding onward, doing so as herself. Shortly arriving at the park, fortunate it is, littleness of the inhabitants. A few fishing spots for the taking, vacantness of it. Breeze of gentleness, birds flying along. Freshness of the air, freedom all around. Cyra standing by a cliff with Argent, explaining the basics to him. Times of the past, a heart holding onto the tiniest of chances. Hopefulness within her own, grimness of the situation. Wishing for another chance, a sisterly figure to the small one. Displeasure in the deity, Valor turning away, childishly folding his arms. Thinking on a way in getting back at her, sneakiness of necessity. Days of the past, that companion's capability in seeing through him.

"Now it is quite simple. Once you open the reel, simply get a good grip, motion back, and fire forward." Cyra explaining.

Changing time, emotions endlessly riding in the wind. A world of pieces, corruption existing even further. Freedom of highness, few capable in claiming it. Gods of highness, withstanding the influence of events. Power of greatness, influence of grandness. Weakness in days of yore, continuously fighting. Light of faintness, grimness of the conflict. A heart once filling with love, hatred consuming it. Forcing onward, facing actuality as herself. Demonstrating for the child, Argent paying attention. That line of the rod extending far out into the lake, amazement from the one of smallness. Simpleness of it, excitement of the activity.

"Ah, I see!"

The rising sun, a realm of wonderfulness. Infinite in mystery, each playing within its hand. One refusing in binding to its influence, words forever within her. Agony of deepness, once soaring along, descending to the land. Wings of shakiness, yearning for those experiences of oldness. Embracing in these moments, vision on the path ahead. That boy looking to his rod, noting everything. Shortly facing his attention onward, mimicking the demonstration. Cyra and Argent resting their eyes forward, witnessing the line reaching far out into the lake.

"Just try not to get your line tangled with another one." Cyra smiling down at him.

"Haha yeah, that would be bad." He agrees, smiling at her.

Littleness of these actions, meaningfulness of them. Feelings withstanding the test of time, desires feverishly igniting. A voice no longer wishing in remaining silent, shouting out for all to hear. Events of the past, pleasantry and horribleness. Two meeting underneath a tree, appreciation of that occurrence. Venturing far, reflecting two. Lives falling apart, innumerable years of suffering. Valor turning in their direction, standing from behind. Frustration far within, competitiveness of the deity. Childishness no less, something driving him in competing with Cyra. His attention to his right, a father teaching his son how to fish as well. Impossibility of shifting the arrangements, deciding in enjoying the day.

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Wishing in speaking what is within, unable to do so. Deities raining down their wrath, opposition towards a halfbreed. One born from two of greatness, an abomination of an existence. An entity loathing the battlefield, yet constantly having to do so. Scars upon her, anger of greatness. Feelings rising to the surface, bursting free. Lashing out, embracing her imperfections and selfishness. Forcing onward, reaching for the nigh impossible. Valor walking up to the railing not far from the father and child, looking towards the lake, a sigh escaping him. Leaning against the railing, deeply thinking on what to do. Hearing the father's instructions to his son, those of nearness.

"Now you have to be patient. When you feel a tug, and see the bobber go under the water, that is the time to begin reeling in. Though, do it at a steady pace. You have to know when to reel, and when to give it some slack." Cyra explaining.

"I see, so patience is the key." Argent slightly looking up, processing the information.

"Precisely." She confirms.

"Nice one Jimmy!" the father speaks in excitement.

Worlds once within the palms of a devil, freeness so far. Gods learning of Valor's interaction with her, one providing solutions in times of harshness. Difficulty of situations, that young woman never relenting. Light of faintness, turning the smallest chance into an actuality. Admiration of her, hatred in discovery of her blood. A catch of sizableness, Valor bearing witness to this. His vision shortly on Argent, that boy doing okay. Joyously drawing in fishes of smallness, a day of simpleness. Normalcy of it, niceness within it. Conflict all around, resting of importance.

"This one is pretty large!" Jimmy bouncing in excitement.

"I bet you can catch an even larger one." The father encouraging.

Realms of differences, some similarities no less. A connecting point at the base, those holding their own of closeness. Time constantly moving forward, pureness of these experiences. Wind of gentleness, fishes swimming along. Boredom of the deity, an idea coming to his mind. One not causing trouble, hopefulness of this either way. Disastrous of a recipe, correctness one might be. Inhabitants going on with their day, that maiden forming a bond with Argent. Motherly in nature, a sisterly figure. A deity unable in gaining answers, an unsurprising outcome.

"Oh yeah? I bet my son over there can catch a larger one." Valor challenging, pointing back to Argent with his thumb.

Competitiveness from the one of firmament, troublesomeness of him. Those minding their own business, one wishing in quelling his boredom. Habits of oldness, one never changing. Those two looking towards Valor, confusion of the boy. That father trailing the direction, Argent pleasantly conversing with Cyra. Laughing, hitting the railing. The child of uncertainty of the hilariousness, frustration within the eyes of Valor. That deity leaning back against the bar, cooling off a bit, casually struggling. Playing the game for quite a bit, in awareness on the approach.

"Oh what? You afraid?" Valor provoking, glancing to the father.

Squabbles of littleness, innocence within the actions. Mischievousness at the base, both in combination. A day of disappointment, excitement coming within activities of triviality. Steadily moving pieces into play, vision of cleverness. Alarming it is to the father, stepping towards the deity. Frustratingly slamming his hands down on the railing, offense of greatness from the god. One of arrogance, fire igniting deep inside of the man. Unacceptable words, one rising to the occasion. Illness of emotions, anger at the depths. A game of plainness, competitiveness between two.

"Hah! My kid can run circles around yours pal." He folds his arms.

Events of simplicity, those willing in going the distance. A game not of worth, yet those unable to resist the temptation. Valor laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. Brushing off the father, turning his attention to Argent. That boy drawing in another catch, this moment no less another opportunity in furthering the situation. A day of excitement, blood boiling by the moment. Fishing of niceness, going further bringing more enjoyment. Wind flowing through, those aquatic animals leaping out, diving back below. Water splashing, hitting against the two.

"I mean, sure, that is what you believe. If you are so certain, then let us make a wager." Valor folding his arms, looking to the father.

Points aligning, eyes visualizing a path going forward. A game of easiness, those wishing in riding it even further. Enjoyment in its embrace, addictiveness in its passing. A cycle of repetitiveness, those unable in breaking free from its clutches. Homing in on his chance, that god setting the final piece on the board. Uncertainty of Jimmy, conflict between his father and the mysterious man. Relevance not there, a game of childishness. A day of pleasantry before, now a more hostile experience. Unsettling sentiments, those willing in meeting the opportunity.

"Oh yeah pal?! You're on! The bet is five grand!" he folds his arms, glaring at Valor.

Wager in place, a price on the line. Everything riding on the betting ones, those relishing in these experiences. Excitement within it, foolishness no less. Risking in losing, exhilaration in victory. A game with only one road, one capable of going home in glory. A realm of lawlessness, actions of normalcy. Valor chuckling, standing straight. Turning in the direction of the father, interesting the situation is becoming. Two contestants playing for keeps, one able in winning the prize. Everything residing on chance, some loving this pressure, others loathing it.

"That is more how I like it." He speaks in determination.

An entity of firmament, habits never leaving. Troublesome he can be, a father believing his son of superiority. Challengers glaring at the other, fire igniting from their eyes. Turning from the other, walking away. Jimmy following behind his father, confusion of the situation. A bet in place, no credible reason. Hearts riding along, each having an aim. Pressure setting in, water infinite in mystery. Valor glancing back, seeing the competition returning to their fishing spot. Shortly experiencing a chill running down his spine, his expression of paleness, feeling as if a fist is crushing his heart.

"Crap! She'll kill me if she finds out I made a bet!" Valor thinking as he panics.

Strictness of his companion, one saving him in times of yore. An order in place, terrifying she can be. Those resting after so long, coming upon a town of smallness. Relishing in experiences of pureness, those of differing realms. Seeking times of the past, a threat of greatness approaching. A wager coming into play, that one of highness going against her wish. His vision in her direction, that young woman unaware of the event, enjoying her day with the child. Soon facing his attention to Jimmy and the father, two vigorously trying to catch the largest fish. That deity positioning his arms in a thinking posture, hastily tapping his foot against the ground.

"Okay-Okay...calm down...you're a god, you can just go kidnap a damn fish, and put it on a hook without anyone realizing it." Valor thinking, cold sweat running down his spine.

Two halves once whole, one of innocence, the other of malice. Both reflecting the devil of the present, a heart trying to maintain its softness. Instances of the past revealing, coldness of newness. Pushing onward as herself, a path of reprehensibleness. Littleness in moments of ease, a god unable in holding his actions. His direction towards Cyra and Argent, an all or nothing gamble. Failure leading to her wrath, incapability of predicting the severity. Desperation reaching into actuality, his heart wildly pounding within his chest. Hearing the voice of his old friend ringing through him, seeing numerous punishment.

"Yo! Cyra! I'm gonna go for a bit! Be back in five!" Valor waving his hand at her.

"Okay!" she waves him off.

Time of limitation, a way towards his safety. Events not in necessity of knowing, fear clawing at the god. Childishness of his behavior, engaging in conflict with another. Leading the situation, initiating a bet. Money on the line, that halfbreed disliking these situations. Racing off, completely vanishing from the area. The heavy wind rushing through the surroundings, Jimmy and his father looking around. Confusion from the two, their attention soon towards one another, shrugging at the other. Cyra and Argent resting their eyes upon each other, uncertainty of the occurrence. Valor in a haste, figuring it is something of importance.