Restoration: Cursed Memories(Book 2)

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Chapter 13: Those Without Will(Part 2)

—Present Time—

Standing upon the shore of an island, Cyra and Valor looking on. The storm being no more, and a gentle refreshing breeze traveling through. Valor turning his attention to Cyra, seeing the malevolence evaporating from her body. His eyes are distant, witnessing her revealing herself once more. Glancing to him, there is no doubt within her that this transformation of hers is leaving her old friend with conflicting emotions. Slightly looking away, Cyra letting out a sigh. Certainly seeing his old friend in such a state is shocking him, but it does not mean she is no longer the person he has always known.

“You okay?” Valor questions, slightly propping his head.

Slowly shaking her head from left to right, soon turning to face Valor. Even then he can still look at her the same way. No matter what she puts him through. It has always been that way now that she thinks about it. An irreplaceable friend he is.

“Right now, I do not know what I am. Still, if I must use this power that I so despise, then I will,” Cyra looking down, some sorrow expressing from her eyes.

Valor looking away, it is now making sense, why her father wishes for her to reveal that power. One of the many reasons for the grief she is enduring. No matter how much he tries, it is appearing that he is always one step behind, thus the cycle continuously repeating.

“I see, this was why your father wanted this power to come about. It is strange...almost as if I have felt this power before...” Valor turning from her.

The god distantly looking over the ocean, the maiden curiously looking within his direction. Certainly there are elements of her past that she has no idea of. While she now has an idea of such, it is still difficult to know how such power can even exist.

“Anything you can provide will be of most help,” she assures him.

Turning in her direction, seeing her eyes becoming more serious. Those eyes reflecting the confidence he knows so well. Even in her weakest hour, there has always been some influential force within her. Valor positioning his arms in a thinking posture, trying to collect events of the past. The power he is feeling from her. While he knows her father, her mother is an entirely different scenario.

His eyes slightly widening, realizing of such. Who the mother is. The deity turning in the direction of the maiden. Seeing the shift in his eyes, feeling the unrest within her old friend. Valor placing his hand upon his waist, slightly looking down.

“Reynas...” he distantly speaks.

“Huh...?” Cyra closely looking on.

Valor looking towards her, his eyes being a bit more serious. It is making sense now, that energy, why she continuously grows stronger. There is a limit to what a devil can do, and while a god can grow to unfathomable lengths, there has been a theory that can surpass such. Still, he will never think that such a thing can happen. An abomination of a birth. Even so, the deity knowing there is no restriction on who is born into the worlds, that is a belief he holds onto. That belief eventually bringing him to meet an invaluable friend.

“Reynas...a goddess far from our worlds, she is your mother,” he calmly speaks.

Slightly looking away, Cyra nodding in assurance. Looking in his direction, the maiden holding her hands behind her back.

“So, you knew my mother?” she props her head a bit in surprise.

Holding the back of his head, the god feeling the refreshing breeze hitting against him. There may be some answers the maiden wishes to know. However, there may not be much he can give her.

“Nah, I would have to be suicidal to confront your mother. I wouldn’t even know if I would make it out alive or not,” he explains.

There is appearing to be so much more the maiden does not know about her mother. Alastor almost never speaking of her, and all she has to remember her mother in those earlier days are pictures. Even in the world between the living and the dead, her mother continuing to seclude the past. Perhaps now she can gain some more information on her.

“She was not a friendly person?” Cyra questions.

Valor scratching his cheek with his right index finger, slightly looking away. That is putting it lightly, trying to think of an easy way to explain this. Unfortunately, there does not appear to be a passable way to state his experience.

“Um...well, I guess this explains where you get your personality from?” he looks to her, uneasily smiling.

That comment of his causing a bit of a glare to strike deep down into his core. Folding her arms, tapping her foot against the ground in impatience. The god knowing he touches a nerve one should never step upon.

“And do tell, what is my personality?” her voice expressing some dissatisfaction.

It is appearing that the deity is entering into yet another dilemma. Taking a deep breath, gathering his nerves, or whatever is remaining of it at this point. Valor proceeding to try and talk his way out of this situation.

“I—I mean...she has always been more of a proud person. While she is known to be relentless to those she deems a threat, she also has a soft-heart. If anything, you’ve inherited her personality, and your father’s resolve,” Valor explaining as clearly as he can.

Cyra calming a bit, the maiden looking away in some embarrassment. The halfbreed turning from him, glancing back to the god. A faint smile coming to her face. No matter the morrow to endure, even if it is but a fleeting moment. Those memories ever so long ago. For the many things he has to put up with, he does know what to say she pleasantly thinks.

“Anyway, due to the little detour we have taken. I have to find an alternative route to the Sunken Temple of Nirva, my best chance went to the fishes,” she positions her arms in a thinking posture.

Valor positioning his arms behind his head in a laid back manner.

“Well, we should not be too far off. I sense it somewhere ahead of here,” he informs her.

Cyra glancing back to him. If what he speaks is of the truth, then there is still time. Perhaps those dreams can become a reality, and all it will take is some extra footwork.

“Is that so? Then we must make haste,” she positions her hand upon her waist.

“Why the hurry?” he lowers his arms, looking to her in confusion.

Turning towards the god, the maiden taking a step back.

“From what I can gather, the gods are trying to activate the three seals. The first was from the Tower of Time. The second is in the Sunken Temple of Nirva. Their ultimate goal is genocide of us demons,” she explains.

Genocide, such a thing the god certainly does expect. After all, they have certainly reveal their true colors before. Valor positioning his arms in a thinking posture, a stern expression coming to his face. It is appearing that they will continue on this path of theirs.

“To think they will go this far. We should hurry to the temple, and deactivate it permanently,” Valor lowering his arms to his side.

“My thoughts exactly” she assures him.

Cyra turning from Valor, looking ahead to the pathway leading into the forest. If the temple is nearby as Valor speaks of, then certainly they can reach there in time to prevent such a catastrophe from happening. The deity looking towards the maiden, knowing that there is another chance. Slightly looking down, conflicting emotions clashing within him. However, he knows well that waiting any longer without so much as a word will cause the events to repeat.

“Cyra...about that night...” he looks towards her.

“Let us go...” her head slightly hanging low, the maiden walking onward.


Such a night, as much as she will like to hear his thoughts on that nightmare that is haunting her, the maiden knowing better than such. That the life she has is not fairly her own. There is a great sin to repent from, Cyra being well aware of this. Doing this at no matter the cost is of necessity first. Such is the path towards the dream she so desires.

Valor looking on with sorrow in his eyes. Slightly looking away, soon turning his attention back to her, seeing the maiden moving further and further away. It is appearing that she will continuously move onward, that is who she is, the deity knowing this well. Always trying to reach for the sun, only to burn and fall back to the land far below. Each time he attempts to reach, his old friend continuously moving further away.

His spirit being low. For now he will follow along. Certainly there must be a way for them to move at the same pace, to head continuously onward. To end this nightmarish cycle. For such a time to become a reality once more.

—Mysterious Camp—

Small cabins setting around, electrifying gates standing tall, stretching high above. The area wreaking of blood. There is seeming to be no one insight. Cyra positioning her arms in a thinking posture, her eyes glaring ahead in suspicion. Valor folding his arms, looking on in confusion. Certainly it is some kind of camp, but what kind exactly? A prison? An internment camp? Definitely there is a heavy feeling deep in the air. One that is sickening down to the very core.

“What do you think it is?” Valor glancing to Cyra.

“Hmm...if I am right...” she looks down to the ground.

Cyra kneeling to the ground, and Valor looking on, wondering of her insight. Looking towards the unsettling land, such catching her interest. The structure not appearing right, as if something is beneath it. The maiden beginning to dig a hole, the devil searching deeper, her suspicions becoming more sound. Seeing a small object, Cyra removing it from the ground. The god looking on with disgust in his eyes.

“A child...” she stands from the ground, dropping the hand.

The hand hitting against the land below, Cyra carefully looking around the area, feeling eyes are upon her. There is no doubt, this place is a trap. The maiden having much certainty now. The stench of blood, the electrifying gates. The unsettling surroundings, everything piecing together.

“What is going on in this crazy place...?” Valor looking ahead to the camp.

“Given the stench of blood...and that body part. There are children as well...and those gates, it must be an internment camp, stay on guard,” Cyra warning.

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