Chapter 14: What Could Have Been(Part 6)
In another life, where such desires may become a reality. Until then, she will continue to walk down such a path, to embrace the choices she makes. Though many may disagree on her path, the pain she is experiencing may be little to no excuse, but that is simply it, everyone desires something, and she is no different in this sense. Petals blowing in the wind, and the air growing colder by the moment. The devil ceasing her movements, feeling a presence nearby. This energy, it is feeling so familiar, causing her stomach to churn.
“So is that it?” a familiar voice states.
The maiden completely freezing, knowing that the person is not far behind her. That voice she recognizes, perhaps it is her own insecurities, or the temple itself playing a trick on her mind. Still, it is feeling real, too real to be precise.
Feeling the cold chilling breeze rushing past her, turning around, looking straight ahead. The eyes of the halfbreed slightly widening. There her vision is resting upon Ardin, seeing those eyes again, feeling this energy, such unnerving her. Why is he here? It is making little sense. A place that can make illusions feel like reality, can this be it?
“This is but an illusion...” she uneasily speaks.
Looking towards her for a moment, his expression turning into frustration as he looks away. Some anger protruding from his eyes. Bearing witness to such an event, the words of the maiden ringing through him.
“Hmph...an illusion? No, this is real, Cyra. I thought you loved me,” he coldly speaks, glaring at her.
Love him? How funny really, believing those actions, that enduring torture for so many years can acquaint to such. Rather, such a comment is sickening the maiden. What a delusional man he is. Those memories flowing through her, the devil trying to calm her nerves.
“I could never love you. In those earlier days, I may have been too afraid to speak those words, but not now,” she calmly responds.
“I see, and our daughter...you would even take her life?” Ardin questions, looking away.
To take the life of her daughter, naturally it will seem like this, no matter what her intentions are. She can never despise her daughter, after all, her child has done no wrong in being born into the world. The demise of her daughter will continue to eternally haunt her.
“I only meant to save her...I did not mean for this to happen...” Cyra looking away, holding her right hand to her chest.
To save the child, not to end their life. Such is what a loving mother will do. That guiding hand that wishes for their child to continue on, even if their own must come to an end. Though, much to her displeasure, it is appearing such a thing must remain a dream, and she must continue down this endless nightmare, trying to find her own path. To right this wrong, and continue towards the future.
“Tell me the truth...do you hate me?” Ardin distantly questions.
“For years,” she calmly assures him.
Looking away from her, anger coming to his eyes once more. Feeling cheated does not describe the rage he is experiencing deep inside. Turning his attention back to the maiden, cracking a faint smile. Nevertheless he must expect this of her. Always the rebellious type. One who opposes reason, but also hold onto such through irrationality.
“I see, heh, I guess we should settle this then. With a proper divorce,” he extends his hand, out of the darkness takes hold of a sword.
The blood of a dark dragon coating the blade. Cyra standing to her side, feeling the breeze intensifying all around her. The malevolence extending from Ardin is staggering. Perhaps in her younger days, she may not have a chance of ever breaking free, but now where her desires are continuously pushing forward, she will break down any barrier standing in her way.
“I suppose so,” Cyra states, directing Lævateinn at Ardin.
Cyra looking into his eyes, her own are calm, such causing some more anger to build within Ardin, the person back then, and the one now appearing like two different people. If she so wishes to be free, then so be it, through death will release come, and that is what he will do.
They dash towards the other, tearing apart the surrounding area. Flowers flying into the air along side rubbles. In an instant their weapons clash, creating an intense shockwave. Breaking away from the other, immediately colliding throughout the area in a circular motioning. Each assault becoming much more heavy, much more precise. Malevolence intensifying all around, making the air almost unbearable.
Cyra and Ardin colliding one more time, causing another shockwave to rush through the area. In that instant, their bodies dematerialize, both riding the wave of the other’s energy, clashing against each other with intense ferocity. Cyra materializing from high above, directing both her revolvers at Ardin, taking aim, the maiden rapidly firing down at him. Ardin quickly moving around her assaults, the negative energy colliding into the ground, causing it to slowly burn away.
Cyra watching as Ardin disappears. Feeling his energy all around her. Cyra glancing back, seeing him appearing behind her. His blade approaching her heart. The weapon colliding into her, his eyes slightly widening, seeing his blade passing through an afterimage. Feeling her nearby, looking above, witnessing the devil descending. The halfbreed fiercely kicking him across his face.
The force of the assault causing Ardin to propel towards the ground extremely fast. As he approaches the ground, he flips, taking a spread stance, safely landing upon the ground. His hand touching the land, the demon looking up to Cyra. Trailing her movement, seeing her descending to the ground from a distance. The maiden soon landing, her eyes expressing no sympathy, the longer the battle goes on, the more rage she is feeling. Remembering those dreadful emotions, that nightmare she lived through. Everything of such a past, the halfbreed wishing for it all to go away.
“You really are serious about this, Cyra,” his eyes expressing disapproval.
“Which part gave it away? The gun? Or the kick?” she sarcastically retorts.
Little words to spare really, all that is remaining is hatred. The malevolence from the maiden thickening by the moment, Ardin feeling her exerting pressure. This level of her power, he can only wonder how far she is willing to go, to stain even her very soul like this.
“Heh, funny, I am going to miss that side of you,” he stands, dusting himself off.
"Sigh, good thing I don’t have to worry about dry cleaning,” he shrugs.
Cyra paying his habits no mind. This battle, such serving no purpose other than to ignite an old flame. This she has no interest of doing, but if she must tear him down to live her own future, then so be it. Such is the will to oppose reason.
“Enough of this Ardin, return to whatever hole you crawled out of. I have no interest in battle,” she turns from him.