Restoration: Cursed Memories(Book 2)

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Chapter 12: Those of Differing Worlds(Conclusion)

Closely looking on, seeing a space where negative energy is in concentration. From the depths of the darkness, nine black wings emerging. Valor watching the wings expanding, spreading far and wide. The god floating back a bit, uncertain on what to think. Valor seeing the being whose skin is appearing to be metallic. A being possessing wings in resemblance to that of the Nine Winged Seraph. Floating in front of the mighty serpent, her cold blood red eyes glaring at the fiend.

“Is that...Cyra’s true form...?” shock overcoming him.

Extending her right arm, negative energy tearing away at her arm. Valor looking on, seeing her arm slowly transforming, emerging from the darkness, revealing a massive shadowy claw of a dragon. The Hydra lunging at the maiden. The fiend approaching, the senses of the devil intensely heightening. In that moment, her claw meeting with one of the heads of the beast.

The assault stopping right in its tracks. Expanding her claw, immediately crushing down on the head. Blood seeping through the wound of the monster. The negative energy emitting from the fiend flowing towards the maiden, assimilating into her body. The head slowly dehydrating, turning into a dark crimson energy. Cyra crushing down on the floating dark crimson orb. The Hydra loudly screeching, and Valor looking on, the vision before him seeming more like something out of a nightmare.

“She...devoured its head...?” he feels a cold chill running down his spine.

“This is probably our chance...” his eyes expressing some unease.

The god shaking off his insecurities, soon descending towards the serpent. Gripping his katana upon his side, unsheathing it in an instant. A flurry of assaults barraging the monster. The attacks concentrating, freezing it whole once more. The glacier once again extending high into the sky.

“Now Cyra!” he urges.

Cyra glancing towards him, nodding in agreement. Turning her attention to the frozen beast, the maiden raising her claw high. Extending her claw, Cyra lunging forward, plunging deep into the glacier, piercing through the defenses keeping her away from the enemy. Pressing onward, rushing her claw deep into the chest of the serpent.

The glacier falling apart, hitting against the water far below. The twisters slowly calming. The ice shattering, and the Hydra screeching in excruciating pain. The malevolence brightly burning from its body, flowing into the maiden. Cyra looking on, seeing the life from its eyes fading away. The beast transforming into an orb of negative energy, burning a bright crimson aura. Crushing down on the orb, the energy flowing through her claw, assimilating into her body.

The maiden lowering her claw, soon turning towards Valor. The god looking upon her, seeing those demonic red eyes, but deep within, he knows she is still the same person he has always known. No matter how far she goes, or the selfish requests she may have, they will eternally remain closest as can be.

“Now...” her tone expressing aggravation.

Immediately growing pale, the deity slowly moving away from her. In turn, Cyra slowly moving towards him in response. The god knowing that this whole scenario is not one to distract her.

“You have some explaining to do,” she slightly threatens.

“Hahahaha?” his laughs soon turning into whimpers.

From high above in the sky, Tyrant Alastor looking on. The devil folding his arms, a faint smile coming to his face. Ever the same they will always be. No matter how much time may pass. It is appearing their bond eternally holds true.

“You have come a long way, Cyra,” he pleasantly thinks.

Alastor looking on, seeing his daughter ringing Valor’s ear. Seeing her action causing the Tyrant to smile. As time passes, the maiden resembling her mother more and more. Such pleasant times those has been for him.

“You just left me like that?!” she yells.

“I’M SORRY!!!”

The Tyrant continuing to laugh. He may not have been a good father, but he knows he has little to concern himself with. Cyra has come a long way, and with a friend such as Valor, there is little to worry about.

“Goodluck Valor, I’m sure she’ll be fine,” he turns as he smiles.

Swinging out his right arm, malevolence surrounding the Tyrant. The darkness thickening, the demon fading away within it. Upon its clearing, Alastor is long gone. A sigh soon escaping Valor’s lips.

“Sheesshh woman!” he sighs, holding his ear, tears coming to his eyes.

“Next time, give me a proper burial,” she places her hand upon her waist.

“I tried to do that...but your sword wouldn’t come out. Also, figured you’d like that place...”

Indeed she does like that place. How wonderful it has been to return there. The place in which her fondest memories exist. The maiden turning from him, faintly smiling. Always so thoughtful he is. However so, in that instance, he may have been able given her a proper burial.

“Look at it this way, it was actually a good decision,” he smiles.

“Tell me, how good of a shot do you think I am?” she smiles back a bit sadistically at him.

The god pausing for a moment, considering his odds of escape. From what his limited math skills is providing him, it might be better to simply play the field once again, and hope for the best. The chances of anything else working might as well be nonexistent.

“I wanna say a bad shot...but I know I’m just lying to myself...” he gulps.

The maiden turning towards him, Valor looking into those eyes revealing sadness. The maiden slightly looking away, holding her hand to her chest. There is much the god has to come to accept. The reunion may be pleasureful, though the maiden knowing that such is not deserving.

“This life is not my own, and you know that,” she softly speaks.

Valor looking away from her, sadness lingering deep within him. No matter the passing time, it is seeming as if it is a cruel joke. To continuously part, to continuously deal with these dreadful events. The deity always wondering why things cannot go back to how it once has been. Though, that is in the past, and he knows this well. No matter how much it is paining him, no matter the request, no matter the efforts, he will continue to be that friend of hers.

“I know...I guess I couldn’t bring myself to do it...” he speaks with a heavy heart.

Cyra turning away from him, soon looking away. The eyes of the maiden clearly expressing sorrow. Sometimes, it is more painful together than apart. Knowing all too well of how events will remain in an endless loop. However, perhaps this path of hers can finally break such a cycle. If so, then maybe those times can be a reality once more.

“Let us quickly find land, it is best I do not maintain this form for long,” she glances back to him.

“Huh?” he props his head towards her in confusion.

“I will explain later,” she flies onward.

Valor distantly following behind her. Yet another journey, perhaps this time it can be different. This is another chance. The god wondering how many times he can mess up before there are no more chances to be given. This time, he must close the gap, to finally reach.

To think the gods would unleash Hydra. This is no coincidence, their objective was clearly to kill me. Still...I suppose their action did have one benefit. I finally did truly reunite with you old friend. While my concerns are still present, some of that has been set to rest. Now the next stop is to the Sunken Temple of Nirva. This war has to end...

Washing up on the shore of a beach is a head of Hydra. The pig standing there, looking down at it. Frustration expressing deep within his eyes. The swine kneeling, lifting the head. The pig taking a moment to look upon it.

“No doubt the work of ‘her,’ another piece has been set into place,” he turns, walking away.


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