Restoration: Cursed Memories(Book 2)

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Chapter 5: Where it All Began(Bonus Scene(Part 2))

Hearts evermore free in those distant times, a dream going on. One from ever so high, another walking the land below. No matter so, a bond forming between two underneath a tree. Even if turmoil is great, friends facing it together. Valor and those animals following along, pleasureful these experiences are. Deep down that deity well in awareness that such a life cannot last forever, his heart refusing to acknowledge this. Those two old friends chatting away, making their way towards their destination. Both sharing laughters, and even the smallest of squabbles. No matter so, those quarrels never being anything serious, evermore out of the pleasure of the moment. Concern inside of the deity, wishing for his old friend not to be exerting herself so much, always one pushing her limitation.

Worrisome he is, even so, that god knowledgeable of devils being quite resilient. Companions ever so close, always being there for one another. Both eventually making their way to the front of a village, an establishment ever so far within the woods. A guard in armor approaching them, his vision upon the animals following along. Turning his attention to the young woman and Valor, those two cladding in armor. A peculiar group they are, let alone the weaponry upon the two. Travelers they may be, but also a threat to the village itself.

“I find it odd for two people, and a group of animals to be this deep into the woods,” he positions his arms in a thinking posture, suspiciously looking at them.

“We are simply travelers, this village was not our intention, but—” Valor gesturing his hand to Cyra, the guard looking towards her.

Two evermore suspicious, a guard carefully eying them both. Those animals with them, a possible threat they may be. That old friend stepping up to the challenge, well in awareness that him and his close friend are out of place. That young woman gently placing a hand on the head of a deer, the animal looking up at her, pleasure within its eyes. Creatures going ever so far, enjoying her company, taking care of another in their time of need. Cyra facing her attention towards the guard, these circumstances well in place for scrutiny. A village so far out, two arriving at their front door in need of assistance.

“My companion has fallen ill, we need somewhere to rest for a day or two,” Valor explaining.

Inspecting the young woman, thinking for a moment. Those of the outside world having their own values, that maiden reflecting from a higher birth. A difficult decision this is, no one wishing to turn away someone in need. On the other hand, a wrong choice being a danger to the village. Those crimson eyes evermore captivating, his heart at an unrest. Unnatural this may be, but also a coincidence underneath the circumstances. Carefully gauging the health of the maiden, one appearing well. Devils ever so resilient, those capable of battling underneath the most terrible of conditions.

“She seems fine to me,” he suspiciously glances to Valor.

A conclusion most of expectance, that birth of the young woman, her race itself. One capable of withstanding the harshest of environments, even so, an old friend wishing for her to rest in her time of weakness. Scratching the back of his head with his right hand, a sigh escaping the deity. His close friend requiring a more stable setting, their appearance ever so suspicious. A god understanding this well, those in the world of mortals constantly engaging in chaos. Villagers wishing for peace away from the conflict, outsiders presenting a threat. That deity always trying his best for her, a heart evermore innocent.

“She has always been a strong one, but she really is ill. Perhaps we can speak to your elder and get this all sorted out,” Valor folding his arms.

“Very well, but do not try anything. You both are under suspicion at the moment,” he warns.

“Fair enough, you have our gratitude,” Valor lowering his arms to his side.

Turning to the gate, that guard raising his spear. Those on the other end catching the signal, the massive gate slowly opening. That man in front of the two glancing back, soon returning his attention onward. The pathway revealing, both seeing some villagers from afar, some resting their vision in the direction of the devil and deity. Cyra facing the many animals, assuring them that she will be well. Each giving their farewell, happy sounds escaping from them. Those creatures heading on their way, Cyra waving them off, a smile expressing upon her. Those animals glancing at her, hearts uniting within the wind. That guard urging Cyra and Valor to follow along, heading into the village.

Making their way through, those eyes of the young woman upon the houses of wood, a place still in development. Children roaming around, some bickering, others playing. An enjoyable experience it is, these pleasureful feelings flowing through. Cyra and Valor soon arriving at a large house comprising of wood, a gate blocking the path. On opposite ends are two standing guard, the first one explaining the situation. Those other two resting their eyes on the guests, that maiden catching their attention. Suspicious they are, but the decision ultimately being that of their elder. Those two guards facing the gate, opening the path. Standing aside, nodding in approval within the direction of Cyra and Valor.

“Our elder is within. Try anything, and the full wrath of our people will be brought down upon you,” a guard threatening.

Those two friends glancing to each other, understanding the hostility. Agreeing to the terms, entering through the gate. The first guard following along, his weapon in hand. Infinite in mystery the worlds are, inhabitants all having their own set of beliefs. These experiences evermore amazing, an adventure around every corner. Cyra and Valor entering into the house, finding themselves standing on a pelt of a bear. Both looking around the room, resting their vision upon the paintings on the walls. Open windows along the ends, statues lining the corners, and a stairway leading higher. That guard instructing them to wait, those two old friends agreeing, both being alone soon enough.

“This world is quite primitive, but it seems nice,” Cyra looking around the room.

Experiences evermore different, yet exhilarating. A world on the lower end, but continuously holding promise. That young woman growing fond of her time within it, resting her eyes on so many occurrences. Whether it is good or bad, her heart feeling free. That deity gazing upon her for a moment, faintly smiling. That old friend enjoying this adventure, encountering some kind creatures on the way. Turning from her, his vision on a painting of a bull. A realm struggling in advancement, yet nice it is. Pleasureful it is, venturing into such a world, witnessing it slowly evolving. Life being at a slower pace, hearts free to embrace the endless sky.

“Midgard is a place of misery and war. Despite such, the inhabitants learn to grow and prosper,” Valor explaining.

That young woman positioning her arms in a thinking posture, her mind on her experience up until the current moment. Midgard being a place of corruption, no matter so, there is always a light. Facing in the direction of the god, that old friend doing the same. Those eyes of crimson and azure meeting with each other, no words leaving them. Those emotions flowing through, that deity well in awareness of her joy. Similarly, Cyra knowing that her companion is enjoying this experience as well. A bit of a detour it is, but such is mattering little.

Footsteps approaching the two, Cyra and Valor turning in the direction. That elder approaching them, the guard close behind. That elder standing before the devil and deity, a young man within his twenties. A new addition he may be, one appearing quite young. Dark brown hair, similar his eyes are. One wearing a traditional red and brown garb, that vision of the man locking onto the young woman. Her crimson eyes captivating him, his heart beating a bit faster inside of his chest, her appearance mesmerizing him. Peculiar it is, witnessing someone such as her cladding in armor, a sword along the lower half of her back. Turning his attention towards Valor, this sight being of expectance.

“This is certainly a far way from civilization,” the elder holding his hands behind his back.

“Ah yes, we are merely travelers is all. We did not wish to disturb your home, so I would like to apologize for the suddenness of it all,” Cyra informing, holding her hand to her chest.

“Yeah, we were planning to head to the far west when this happened,” Valor apologetically explaining.


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