Chapter 7: Those Who Must Sin(Bonus(Pt 2))
Cyra ascending the stairway, finding herself on the platform above. Malevolence encircling her, the maiden looking around, watching it circling. Cyra soon turning her attention ahead to the shining tombstone, walking towards it.
This place...what exactly is it? I mean, I know I have done nothing deserving to be sent to a place of comfort, but this place...I cannot put my finger on it...
The maiden standing in front of the tombstone, seeing inscriptions upon it. What a strange arrangement this is. However, it might help her figure out exactly what to do. Perhaps this place may have some answers.
“To fall into despair, to be at the brink of oblivion, only to reach a hand out, and devour the world all around. Set out, grab forth, shout your soul Defiler of Souls.”
The area around her beginning to intensely vibrate, the inscriptions on the tombstone glowing even brighter. Cyra taking a step back, looking around her surroundings.
“Of course reading it out loud would have been a bad idea...that fool really rubbed off on me...”
A grin of unease clearly expressing from her face. The maiden looking down, seeing the ground beneath her feet slowly breaking away. Alarm coming over her, Cyra leaping away as a shadowy claw of a dragon emerges from the ground.
The maiden standing a few feet away, watching the fiend emerging out of the depths of the land. The being pulling itself up onto the surface. Skin jet black, eyes blood red, and nine feathery black wings spreading afar. Her eyes slightly widening, feeling the malevolence grabbing at her as if it is choking her. Cyra falling to her knee, holding her neck, desperately gasping for air.
“What is this thing...? This hatred...this malice...”
The maiden weakly looking ahead, seeing it expanding its nine black wings, extending its claws afar. From behind the maiden, a mysterious woman standing. Long golden hair, and velvet eyes in resemblance to that of the blood moon. The person wearing an ancient white garb.
The fiend looking towards the maiden, loudly screeching in her direction. Cyra turning her attention behind her, her eyes resting upon the woman. The woman extending her hand in the direction of the fiend. A pure shining white light stretching from her hand, surrounding the monster. The screeching from the fiend becoming even louder, holding its head in agony.
“Now is not the time, return from whence you came,” she calmly speaks.
The screeching intensifying by the moment, the surrounding malevolence circling around the monster, extending high into the air. The maiden standing upon her feet. Witnessing the fiend vanishing into the darkness. The light from the tombstone fading away.
“A moment sooner, and you would have been dragged down to the pits of Hell,” the woman softly speaks.
Cyra turning towards the woman. The maiden is uncertain why the woman before her is appearing so enlightening. A familiar feeling, perhaps she may have come into contact with this person years ago. However, it is hard to make certain of such.
“Who are you?” Cyra suspiciously questions.
The woman turning from Cyra, laughing a bit. The maiden looking on in confusion, finding their situation hardly any time to be laughing. They are in some peculiar graveyard, and monsters can come out from apparently reading off of tombstones.
“How could you forget your own mother?”
The maidens eyes slightly widening in shock. Her mother? Now a lot of things are not making any sense, let alone why her mother will be in such a place as this. Cyra can understand why her soul will suffer banishment to such a hell, but her mother? No, she remembers her mother has been far more pure than her, so it is making little sense.
“Mother...?” Cyra taking a step towards her.
“Come along now, we have much to discuss,” she walks onward.
Cyra taking a moment to assess the situation. Here in the realm of the dead, where the souls of the damned eternally rest, where those who are destined for an eternity of nothingness resides, so why does her mother exist in such a world?
It is hard to say really, she can understand why she will exist in such a world, but her mother? From what she can remember, in those times of limitation, her mother is much more different than her. Never staining her hands in the depths of darkness like she does. For now, the maiden follows along, whatever answers are awaiting ahead, she knows there is no point in wondering. No answers can reach fulfillment by waiting, only through action can such a thing become a reality.
Cyra following her mother through the graveyard, soon coming across a gateway. The maiden standing there, looking past the gate to where a tree is standing from afar. Her mother glancing back to her, aware that her daughter is feeling a sense of familiarity. The mother turning to face her daughter.
“I believe once we past this point, you will realize where your most happy place is,” she softly speaks.
My most happy place...? Is it...there...?
Her mother turning, walking up to the gate. Cyra looking on as her mother pushes open the gateway. A warm light extending through the pathway. The woman standing aside, allowing the maiden to move ahead first.
“Go on, I believe you should be first to enter,” she faintly smiles.
Cyra looking towards her mother for a moment, soon turning her attention towards the entrance ahead. The light wrapping around her feeling warm, comforting even. A familiar emotion coming from within. One in which is filling her with joy.
The maiden walking onward, passing through the gateway. The area suddenly brightening all around her, revealing a grassy plain seeming to endlessly extend. Cyra’s eyes slightly widening, the maiden slowly looking around. Soon turning her attention towards the sole tree stretching high from a distance. The maiden glancing back, seeing her mother approaching. Her mother standing behind her, holding her hands a bit firmly down.
“This was the place you met him. It has always been a most treasured memory of yours,” she softly speaks.
Cyra facing her mother, positioning her arms in a thinking posture. This place, only one more will ever know of such. The maiden slightly glaring at the woman in suspicion, wondering how she can possibly know of this place.
“How do you know this? You have been gone for around two thousand years,” her voice extending a bit of animosity.
Her mother faintly smiling, understanding well why her daughter will be suspicious of her. After all, it is only natural. It has been far too many years. In all honesty, it will be very unlikely for her daughter to remember her.
“I never left you,” she softly speaks.
Cyra’s eyes slightly widening. Hearing those words, the maiden slightly looking away. Thinking deeply on the matter at hand. Never left her? Hard to say really, she has been alone for many years, ever since that night of her parting with Valor, there has been a void of nothingness.
“I watched over you. Seeing all the good times and bad times in your life, seeing how you fought against your enemies, falling deeper into despair, yet, you still emerge stronger than ever,” she softly speaks.
Cyra’s expression lightening, the maiden lowering her arms to her side. Looking towards her mother with such sorrowful eyes. There are many questions the maiden has. However, for now, there is one very important thing she wishes to know.
“Then why? Why does it continue? Why can I not rest?” she takes a step towards her mother.
Approaching the maiden, knowing well of the dread her daughter experiences. Embracing her daughter, holding her tightly in her arms. Cyra looking away, wondering when the last time it has been since experiencing the embrace of her mother.
“I know it is hard. Though, it is not your time. You know, I am proud of you...” she softly speaks.
Dread growing within Cyra’s eyes. It is not her time, those words being the last thing she will ever want to hear at this point. Hanging her head low, holding in the despair deep within her. Continuously wondering why she must resist. Why she cannot simply move on.
“No matter what the challenge is, you keep fighting, even if it is but a somber morrow. Though—” her mother moving to arms length.
Her eyes meeting with those of her daughter’s. Warmly smiling at the maiden. It is not her time to venture within such a world. There is still much more to do. Even more so than this, there might be a way to give the maiden which she most desire deep inside.
“There is a way for you to claim that life you so desire,” she softly speaks.
Cyra’s eyes slightly widening once again, to think there is a chance, but how exactly? It is seeming like she has fought an eternity without end. Each battle leading to nowhere. The deeper she travels, the more intense this sorrow within her is becoming.
“You must fight for an eternity, being drawn deeper into the depths of despair. Once you have reached the brink of despair, the answer will be revealed. Though, take note, that if you so shall go down this path, you must be willing to do whatever is necessary,” she explains.
Cyra looking away for a moment, to reach the brink of despair, to be able to grasp such a chance once again. To make such a dream a reality. Looking towards her mother, nodding in much certainty. Her mother walking past her. The maiden turning, seeing her mother standing a few feet ahead of her.
Cyra looking on, seeing her mother extending her hand to the tree where everything began ever so long ago. Soon raising her hand high. The maiden noticing Lævateinn in the background. The massive blade revealing itself, extending high into the sky.
“Become the Bringer of Demise. Unlock the hidden potential within Lævateinn, and lay ruin to your enemies. Though be warned, once you pass this point, there is no going back, you will eternally fight until your goal has been achieved,” she warns.
“Another few millennia’s does not seem like a problem at this point. At this rate, I am in it like it or not,” Cyra placing her hand upon her waist.
Bringer of Demise huh...if that is what it takes for me to return to such a time once again, then so be it. I will lay ruin to all those who stand before me...this is my desire...