Restoration: Cursed Memories(Book 2)

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Chapter 8: Awakening(Part 1)

Rain bathing the grassy plains below, the maiden laying there lifelessly upon the ground. Lævateinn soaking in her very own blood. From the deepest darkness, the maiden hearing the cry of her weapon. Seeing a pure white energy extending from the endless abyss.

Lævateinn continuing to shine a brilliant white light, crying out to her. Malevolence spiraling around the maiden, soon infusing into the corpse of the lifeless devil. Cyra extending a hand within the endless abyss, reaching for the warm light. It is then she feels an unknown force grabbing at her, pulling her deeper and deeper. The light shining brighter, soon everything going black once again.

The expression on her face tensing, feeling the rain hitting against her. The devil slowly opening her eyes, hearing the crying of her sword. Cyra standing from the ground, looking upon the weapon impaled within her chest. Hearing the cry of her weapon, perhaps it is of happiness. To know that she is still within their world. A life of eternal torment, there is no ending it is seeming, Cyra knowing this well. Her eyes expressing some sorrow, but she is well aware that there is no going back.


“Lævateinn...” she distantly speaks.

Cyra closing her eyes for a moment, listening to its cries, soon grabbing the hilt of her blade, removing it with a single pull, swinging it to her right. Blood gushing out of her body. The maiden taking a step back, feeling dizzy from the loss of blood. Cyra looking up to the dark cloudy sky, feeling the rain hitting against her. The area in which she is standing bringing some happiness to her. How many years has it been since she can last stand within those plains? Hard to say really.

The maiden holding her hand to her chest, a faint smile coming to her face. Certainly this is the place she will have wish her eternal rest to be, but it is appearing that there is still much to do. However so, the devil feeling slight annoyance, not because of the area she is in, no, because of the burial method.

“That dumbass could have at least given me a burial...when I find him, I am going to carve my mark into his hide,” she holds the back of her head, a stern expression coming to her face.

Cyra slightly looking down, a sigh escaping her lips. The maiden knowing he has great respect for her, but certainly a normal burial will have been to her preference much more. Cyra slowly shaking her head from left to right, the devil soon looking ahead.

“A hero’s burial is not for me, the ground is just fine,” she calmly speaks, walking onward.

The rain pouring down hard, the devil walking further into the grassy plains. Memories in which brings both joy and sorrow. Cyra soon ceasing her movements, distantly looking back to the tree. Perhaps there can be a day where those times can finally be a reality once more, but certainly such a time will not come any time soon. The maiden looking down with depressing eyes, holding her hand to her chest. The devil can still feel the pain that Lævateinn inflicted upon her. However, that pain does not compare to the dread she is feeling.

“Lævateinn cried...still...perhaps I was better off dead. A mother that cannot even save her own child. A mother who thought she was her child. Forgive me...Maria...” her voice slightly quivering.

Her heart feeling heavy, regret protruding from deep within her eyes. To live a life not rightfully her own, the maiden feeling disgust. The feeling only growing worse by the moment, knowing that the life she lives is belonging to her very own daughter.

“No matter what I do...I can never right this wrong. Still...I am alive now, and I have some work left to complete,” she distantly utters.

Cyra looking to the gauntlet on her right hand. The weapon no longer of any use. Remembering its destruction in the battle with the supreme god, her old friend. The maiden slowly inhaling and exhaling, soon raising her head, distantly looking into the cloudy sky. The devil looking on, embracing the coming rain, feeling it hitting against her face. It is feeling cold, but refreshing really. To accept the wrongs one has done is one thing, but to realize the results of such. It is a massive burden upon her shoulders. Still, there is no going back, and she is well aware. To achieve her desires, to right the wrong she has done, she must push deeper, to be able to grasp the chance that has been lost so many years ago.

This is the path I have chosen. In order to return to such a time, I will carve my way forward...

High above the clouds, a massive beast flying along. The head of a dragon, and the body of a serpent. Malevolence burning from its body. A leviathan it is, a truly fearsome beast which even the gods will not dare to challenge.

The maiden looking to the clouds, noticing the shifting of the formation. The clouds soon slowly spiraling around. Cyra squinting her eyes. The maiden looking on, seeing the head of the beast penetrating the thick clouds. Her eyes slightly widening, the devil taking a step back. Her vision upon beast, seeing it descending towards her.

The beast seeing her, letting out a menacing roar, creating massive shockwaves. The assaults repeatedly striking through the area. The maiden blocking out the intensity of the attacks, narrowly holding her ground. Cyra looking on, witnessing the beast descending some distance away from her. Her eyes becoming more confident by the second.

Cyra lowering her arms, watching the monster menacingly growling at her. The maiden taking notice to its hostility, finding something amiss. The malevolence burning from the beast is truly frightening, but something is appearing to hold its actions.

The maiden slowly motioning her hand towards her blade. The leviathan carefully watching, seeing her gripping the hilt of her weapon. The beast taking alarm to such, roaring at her once again. The devil standing to her side, directing her blade at the monster ahead of her. The eyes of the maiden brimming with confidence.

“Stand aside, or face a truly pitiful end,” her eyes daring upon the monster.

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