Restoration: Cursed Memories(Book 2)

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Finale 2- Deepest Desire-Heaven and Earth(Part 5)

Heaven and earth, how so ever long ago did they meet. In such a time where such dreams can become a reality. In those days where two worlds collide. Oh how a wonderful time it has been. Still, all good things must come to an end. No matter how much one may wish for such times of happiness to last, it never will. However, this does not mean one will not try. As such, these selfish desires is what breaks-through, leading a path towards the future. Valor standing in front of the forbidden gate. The god feeling the intense malevolence. How sickening really, but this is little in comparison to what his old friend endures.

“Cyra...I am coming...”

Valor walking onward, entering through the forbidden gate. Continuing onward, soon finding himself in a room that is pitch black. It is hard to see, well to be more precise, he cannot see anything at all. The supreme god looking around, moving onward. Certainly she must be deeper within. Valor feeling her nearby, all he has to do now is find her.

The deity continuing deeper and deeper into the endless void, the area around him beginning to change. Seeing flowers extending far and wide. The area brightening, it is clear that it is night. Standing still in those familiar fields, looking above to the velvet moon ever so high in the sky.

This night there is no doubt in his mind. The scent all around, the petals moving in the wind. That familiar moon high above. The night in which they would part ways ever so long ago. No doubt this is the place in which causes most of her strife. This horrid memory, the one place in which their lives may have been able to take a different turn. Looking ahead, his distant eyes upon the maiden standing from afar. Her back facing in his direction. Cyra glancing back to him with such sorrowful eyes.

“Valor, why are you here?” she distantly questions.

Taking a step forward, knowing full well of why he is here. Perhaps in the past, he may have been frozen in place. Though, not this time. This dreadful night, there has never been a day where he does not wonder how it may have gone.

“Cyra, let’s go home. We finally have the chance to put all of this behind us,” he urges.

How nice it will be if it is that simple. This sorrowful night eternally lingering inside of her. No matter how much she wishes to leave here. The devil knowing better than such. To have come here naturally means doing so at a price.

“It matters not if I leave this place. I tried to follow my desires, but all that led to was the worlds nearly in ruin. Such a life is not possible,” she turns towards him.

Valor looking on, seeing those sorrowful eyes. Hanging his head low, his fists shaking in frustration. Even now, he cannot seem to do anything. He may not be frozen in place like in those older days. Yet it might as well be in a similar sense. Unable to know what to even do. There has been no plan, coming here has been a hasty decision. Even so, this time he will try to reach her, no matter how far he must go.

“Not possible you say? Right...probably isn’t, but that does not mean I will let you rot here for all eternity,” he looks towards her more confidently.

Looking at her old friend, witnessing that familiar resolve. The hand in which continues to reach, no matter how much pain he endures. Even if it is one failure after the next, he will continue to try.

“Let us leave here, let us try and make that dream a reality. We will never know unless we keep pushing,” he holds his fist to his chest, taking another step towards her.

Cyra slowly shaking her head in refusal, the eyes of the god widening in devastation. Looking away, holding her hand to her chest, grief extending from her eyes. As much as this is sounding delightful, there is another reason as well. The halfbreed wishing to eternally rest. To cease this endless cycle. To put everything behind her. If everything can be simply a nightmare and nothing more, then that will be nice as well.

“I cannot stand this anymore...I simply want to rest. Even more so than that, leaving here may even release Ultima. I am grateful that you came, but please leave...” she softly speaks.

For years upon years enduring this grief. The god knowing this now, his head hanging low. To leave his old friend here, this is something he can never do. So much he has been through, following her to the furthest reaches of the Nine Worlds. Yet, never being able to reach her. If this is his last chance, then he will ensure to make true to it. To at least give her the future she so desires, this much he has to do.

“You can hate me later for this, but I am getting you out of here, old friend...” he looks towards her with those eyes of hope.

Slowly reaching her hand back, expecting no less from her old friend. Valor taking notice, seeing her grabbing hold of the hilt of Lævateinn. It is appearing that there can be no other alternative. In order to bring her salvation from which is tormenting her, he will have to truly face his closest friend. As much as it is paining him to raise arms against his old friend. Time is running short, and there are many who are waiting for her return. Those many friendly faces that will show her that she has somewhere to return to.

Valor watching Cyra extending Lævateinn afar like a scythe, seeing the back of it coating in black scales. The crimson blood reflecting off of the steel itself. The deity slowly unsheathing his katana. Nervousness he is feeling, knowing that he has only one chance to get this right. Even if she has lost most of her power in the battle against Ultima, he can feel her power continuously rising. Truly a terrifying opponent to face.

“You do not belong here Valor, leave before it is too late,” Cyra sorrowfully speaks.

Leaving is one thing he can never do. Shaking his head in refusal, taking a step towards her. The god wishing for no more than those times ever so long ago to be a reality once more. Their deepest desires being one and the same. If there is any chance of such, he will see to it that it becomes a reality once again.

“Never! I am not going back without you!” he strongly speaks.

Two old friends once again facing against each other. Sorrowful eyes resting upon the other. Petals blowing in the wind. Upon a petal blowing in their line of sight, in that instant they clash against the other. Their eyes meeting with each other. Feeling the malevolence from his old friend. It is indeed strong, but one in which he will pierce through and finally reach her. Cyra and Valor slightly pulling away, both immediately clashing once again with great ferocity. These two mighty beings pressing against the weapon of the other.

“Why not?” she questions in confusion.

Hanging his head low, wondering if such an explanation is really of necessity. That or if it is his own fault for being unable to speak. The halfbreed looking at her old friend, seeing how he is retreating once again. Even now, he is unable to break out of his shell. Such causing her pain, more so than he can ever believe.

Slowly shaking his head from left to right, the god dashing away. Cyra leaping high, locking onto the target below. Raising her scythe over her shoulder. Those sorrowful eyes of hers upon her old friend. Descending towards him, the deity readying himself. There is not a moment to rest, the god launching waves of ice at her, slowing her speed. As she crashes down, the deity narrowly flipping over her. Valor looking on with trembling eyes, seeing the land tearing asunder.

Landing from a distance, slowly calming his nerves. Watching the maiden slowly standing. Cyra distantly looking up into the velvet moon, her grief slowly overtaking her. Lowering Lævateinn, the devil trying to hold in her frustration.

“Time and time and again. I try to be patient, while you continuously hide in your shell. When will you realize that your cowardice can also harm?” she glances back to him.

Her words holding truth to it. Hanging his head low, unable to deny such. Lack of action might as well be in comparison to slaying her with his own blade. This much he knows deep within. No matter how much he wishes for it to be untrue.

“I know...I never had a friend like you. Most of the time I overthink things, but never once have I ever abandoned you,” he looks towards her.

Some emotions coming to her eyes, Cyra turning in his direction. Indeed, never once has he ever abandoned her. Even through her years of loneliness, she does know he will have come if such knowledge has been in presentation towards him. That one reliable friend, even if he remains in a shell. Perhaps if things have gone differently that night, then maybe heaven and earth will have been as one.

“Time grows short Valor, you must forget about me, and move on with your life,” she softly speaks.

Shaking his head in refusal. No matter how much time passes, he can never do such a thing. Even if the chances are minuscule at best, he will keep reaching out. So that those days, those pleasurable times can become a reality once again.

“ will never be just a memory...!” he looks towards her with such dreadful eyes.

To never be a memory, those words he speaks. Remembering how they have grown so close over the many years. Both facing the other, their eyes meeting once again. Extending Lævateinn, the god’s unwilling eyes to continue on. The maiden dashing towards her old friend. Her blade moving in, the devil approaching. Valor striking the ground, creating a towering wall of ice.

This may be a desperate attempt to slow her, for him to think of something. However, time is not infinite. The halfbreed striking the wall of ice, the deity ascending above her as it comes crashing down. Cyra diving to the ground, her old friend descending upon her. At the moment of touching the ground, the devil slipping underneath the assault. The maiden turning to immediately retaliate. However, the god instantly barraging her with a flurry of assaults. Valor instantly striking through, freezing his old friend solid.

Calmly turning, the deity sheathing his blade. Upon a click, the ice entombing her shattering. The maiden taking a step back, the god turning in her direction, still keeping cautious of her. To think she has grown even more powerful after the battle with Ultima, it is frightening really. Witnessing her stepping away, Valor looking into those depressing eyes. The deity wishing to bring her home. To bring her back to the many who are awaiting her return.

“Valor, I will have to ask you to forgive my selfishness old friend...” she depressingly speaks.

Valor taking a step back, wondering what she can mean. The god looking on, seeing Cyra appearing in front of him in an instant. The devil rending her foot into his stomach. The pain is excruciating, but she will not let up there. Cyra backflip kicking him, launching the deity into the air.


Instantly following up, the maiden appearing to his side, immediately striking through her old friend with her blade. Cyra ascending above him in that moment, rendering her foot down into his stomach. The deity crashing down into the ground. The pain staggering upon him. Yet he immediately rises to his knee, seeing the maiden descending with her weapon. The god dashing away in the last moment, Cyra sweeping her scythe across the area. The deity looking on from a distance, balancing upon his knee. The surrounding area being asunder. His eyes of unease upon her.

The maiden standing straight, directing Lævateinn upon her old friend, Valor rising to his feet. Feeling a cold chill running down his spine. Desperately trying to hold onto his breath. There is no doubt in his mind, her decision has been set. Even so, he must push on. The future is one of endless possibilities, this he must make her see. That those desires can become a reality.

“I will not be arguing with you. Your orders are to leave,” she speaks more strictly.

“Heh...sorry, never one to follow orders,” he smiles at her.

Her eyes lightening a bit, her face shading a bit of red. Even in such a time, he can still be that lovable goofball. Perhaps this side of him she will miss the most. That happy-go-lucky can-do attitude. The god horizontally positioning his katana ahead of him. Many azure pentagrams rapidly emerging. It is appearing this will be the final confrontation. At the end of this, a new future will become a reality. The devil directing her blade at him, standing upon her side. Two old friends, one of the high heavens, and the other from the land ever so far below.

Motioning her blade in a closer stance. The malevolence exerting from her body becoming stronger by the moment. The darkness lashing out in every direction. Many petals blowing in the wind, the cold air intensifying all around. Valor plunging his katana into the ground, kneeling to the land. An icy mist spreading far and wide, freezing over the field. The energy colliding into Cyra, darkness generating from her taking into physical form, blocking out the assault.

Glaciers extending high into the sky. The intensity of the attack repeatedly striking at her, becoming stronger and stronger. The halfbreed’s senses heightening. Taking a crouching stance, Cyra locking onto her target. Lunging forward, the maiden striking at the center, unleashing a flurry of assaults. The negative energy piercing through the glaciers. Valor looking on in determination, seeing the malevolence striking all around him. The god meeting her attacks in kind without any moment to spare. Appearing in front of her, devastatingly striking her with a flurry of assaults.


Taking a few steps back, the maiden falling to her knee. His eyes fixating on her, knowing well not to let his guard down. Feeling the concentration of energy releasing from his body. The eyes of the deity widening in shock. Unable to continue any longer, Valor falling to his knees. Looking on in devastation, watching Cyra rising to her feet. All he can do is look on, seeing her turning away from him.

“C—Cyra...! Impossible...!” he collapses face down on the ground.

The devil looking back to her old friend with such sorrowful eyes. The god weakly looking at her, trying to muster the strength to continue on. Even if the situation is seeming so bleak, he refuses to give in. His soul crying out, to resist just a bit longer, not to give in when he is so close. Unfortunately, it is appearing his endurance reaches its limitation.

“Perhaps in another life, old friend...”

The deity looking on, seeing his old friend moving further and further away. The wind blowing harder, becoming heavier by the moment. Reaching a hand out, trying to reach her. The night of their parting, how so very cruel. Remembering how powerless he has been to do anything on that dreadful night. A crimson ribbon moving in the wind, landing on the outer part of his knuckle. His eyes widening in grief, remembering the ribbon. The very one she loves so much. Valor grabbing hold of it, his eyes trembling in devastation. That shock turning into lament.

The maiden glancing back to him. A bit of embarrassment coming over her as he ties the ribbon to the back of her head. The loops of it extending a bit far, the laces stretching down. Cyra turning towards him, running her hand through her hair, the maiden slightly looking away. Valor placing a hand upon his waist.

“There, you were right, it would be a good match for ya,” he smiles.

The maiden faintly smiling, looking into his eyes. They have been close friends for a long time. No doubt he will catch onto her interests. Cyra slightly looking down for a moment, then away from him.



His vision blurring, his body unable to respond any longer. The god collapsing, clenching the ribbon tightly in his hand. Unable to resist any longer, the deity falling into a state of slumber. Those pleasureful times being no more than in the past. The dread deep within. Heaven and earth being no more than a dream ever so long ago. Eternal memories cursing their lives. If only thing could have gone differently that night. Those words branding itself upon their souls.

Perhaps in another life, old friend. This is not a place for you. Continue on living, and forget about me. Keep shining that hope you have onto others...

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