Chapter 39: Chapter 12: A Somber Morrow(Part 1)

—The Past Revisited—

—18 Days Ago—

Emotions gripping so high, the night unsettling to those all around. Enemies lurking in the town, resistances falling by the moment. Everything of blissfulness not too long ago, now a nightmare upon the humans. The efforts of the king going in vain, that valiant commander faltering as well. An eternal night of despair, the heart crying out for all to hear, yet none answering. That castle of the late king still standing as best as it can, through the many hallways, passing the numerous paintings. The room of the princess revealing, every sort of luxury one may want appearing present in that area. A bed satisfying one of extravagance, that balcony where one can experience the refreshing breeze. Closets that are far too many for a person of normalcy, and a bathroom seeming more like a vacation away from home. Standing by the bedside is Anya, a young woman from the Elven kingdom.

A truce in agreement, those two kingdoms coming together. That prince and princess growing closer, such providing an opportunity of perfection, leading to a flourishing trade between the two kingdoms. Vibrant hair extending long and proud, a rosy color it is, her eyes of a similar nature. The Elven wearing a traditional dress of her kingdom, that fabric layering in each and every fine detail, a dark and crimson color. Anya walking towards a window, distantly gazing upon the land. Her concern of her fiancé continuously plaguing her mind, unusualness in his absence for such a length of time. That young man always making it a habit of informing her of any leave that is passing a certain point. Her heart knowing of the harsh reality, those fiends lurking in the shadows. The princess deeply worrying of his safety, in all of her concern, Anya almost missing the knocking at the door. Turning in the direction, wondering if the Prince is standing on the other side.

"Enter." She eagerly urges.

Those countless hours, her heart wishing to know of the state of her fiancé. This unsettling night, those monsters lurking around each corner. The door opening, disappointment coming to her, one not of her expectation. That knight of the late King standing on the other end, Richter. Yet another hour going by, and the Prince not returning to her side. Anya noticing the grim expression coming from the eyes of the knight, her stomach churning a bit. Her heart rate slowly increasing, fear gripping at her. For him to be here, that expression inside of his eyes, the young woman wishing it is not as she is fearing.

"Princess, we should speak..." His painful eyes upon her.

The night evermore unsettling, mysteries hiding away inside of it. That crimson moon shining down, bathing the land in its sorrowful light. Those fiends lurking in the deepest of shadows, loss around every corner. That expression inside of the eyes of the knight, the princess fearing for the worst. Everything slowly falling into a state of complete madness, now the possibility of a devastating horror setting in by the moment. The King no longer here, the Queen within the wind, a nightmare never seeming to have an end.

"What do you mean...?" she hesitantly questions.

Turning from her, that knight closing the door, his eyes closing for a moment. Even someone like him, sinking so low is truly regrettable. Even so, there is no point in starting a conflict if one will never finish it. This no less the harsh reality of war, one must be willing to do even the most reprehensible of actions. No matter of the many sins, this heart of his extending in the game of chance that is life. Opening his eyes, turning towards her. Richter taking a moment, looking upon the expression of the princess. Concern deep inside of her eyes, this no doubt of expectance. Richter letting out a sigh, confronting the Elven.

"I came to regrettably inform you that...the Prince is no longer alive..." He slightly looks away.

Her eyes trembling at those words, that heart paining by the moment. Devastating it is, almost as if a bolt of lightning is crashing down on her. Anya stepping back, trying to rationalize the situation. Her hands to her chest, the princess looking away for a moment, soon returning her attention to the knight, tears forming within her eyes. That Elven desperately thinking of anything else, unbelievable it is. That Prince always of resilience, never faltering to the challenges ahead. Difficulty in embracing this, her heart yearning for it to be something else, anything else.

"I—It can't be...! He can't be!" she shakes her head in refusal.

"Aye..." He turns from her.

Regrettable news it is, losing someone of dearness. That knight in awareness of these emotions, despite it all, one continuing onward. No matter of the many atrocities inside of the night, he must keep pushing forward. Giving the princess a moment, gazing at his hand. Richter closing his eyes for a bit, soon opening them more confidently. The knight holding his hands behind his back, proceeding with the rest of the information. Everything slowly coming into place, that desire so far inside of him moving towards a reality. Even if it shall mean paving his way in blood, this no less the harshness of the battlefield.

"He proudly fought against those demons...dying an honorable man." A conniving smile taking to Richter's face.

"..."

Honor of pointlessness, that benefit useless to those that are no more, the word infuriating her. One no longer alive, that message of the reporter. Honor of uselessness, incapability of quelling sadness. Dying of an excuse, incredible feats more of the living. Returning in healthiness, this of more worth. One doing more in the realm of life, than in such of the dead. Pain of indescribableness, anger boiling at her core. Richter understanding this, that hatred manifesting inside of him. Those numerous actions he must take, painful it may be, but also of necessity. That smile more in the bliss of finally returning what has been long overdo, but within those distressing eyes, agony existing in doing so. That knight glancing back to her, his vision lightening a bit.

"Which is why...we should discuss your options." His tone a bit more serious.

Sickening his words are, a cruel joke if anything. Her fiancé no longer of this world, one incapable of taking a moment in grieving. Madness this is, the night of cruelty. Everything of deplorableness, words unable in forming from her. Those fists shaking in frustration, a heart now in bondage, wishing to be free. That soul binding to the land, everything feeling so surreal. That heart paining by the moment, tears inside of her eyes. That unsettling wind, those monsters lurking around, the realm in a state of insanity.

"..."

Anya standing there, feeling her entire world crushing down. Despair clawing away at her, this hatred boiling inside of her. Not even a moment to properly grieve a loss, now a new reality setting in. Those memories of the past, blissful they have been, now days of pleasure so far away. That one no longer of the living, a life falling into turmoil. Despite the horror all around, it has at least been bearable. Now she is here, all on her own. That King of the dead, the Queen in the wind, now her fiancé joining his father. Hopelessness inside of the night, uncertainty of its existence.

—Present Time—

The night of cruelty, the coldness of the air rushing through. That blood moon shining down its light of beauty, a wasteland of an area revealing deep below. Sand blowing through, smaller shrubs and trees scattering far. Platforms breaking away, the rocky terrains so far. Flying high above the wasteland revealing a beast, half griffin and Elven. That rosy color hair and eyes, a fiend in resemblance to the missing princess. Her eyes scouring the land, the beast locking onto a rodent scurrying along the ground. Her talons in view, that fiend circling the area for a moment, soon diving clearly in precision.

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Instantly grabbing the rodent with her mighty claws, that beast savagely devouring it. Some time passing, that monster stretching, tiredly yawning. No matter so, rest having to wait. Sternly frowning at two approaching in her direction, the fiend loudly squawking. Warning those intruders, a territory now of her, trespassers within her domain. An area of her own, her livelihood in a barren land. Cyra and the vampire standing in place, looking upon the beast. That demon taking a moment, positioning his arms in a thinking posture.

"That's...the princess..." The vampire's voice expressing some sorrow.

Those words hitting deep inside of the young woman, the one thing she has been wishing not to be. Despite it all, this is also being of a possibility. The former knight turning the late Prince into a monster, his fiancée no less of a target as well. Another moment raising her blade, this time no better than the last. Cyra glancing to the vampire for a moment, soon looking upon the beast of hostility. Her pitiable eyes upon the creature, deeply wishing that this will not have been the result, yet another victim of the night. This heart inside of her, wishing for another solution, one not seeming of a possibility.

"No doubt Richter's work once again..." She looks away.

That vampire resting his vision upon Cyra, uncertainty clearly within his eyes. Knowing her well enough, hesitation in speaking. That demon thinking back to the Prince, still wondering if there might have been another way. Both now face to face with the princess, one being a monster of the night. That heart of his desperately hoping for another solution, that a life, even one that is suffering so much, can still have salvation without death. Foolishness it may be, one possibly having in doing so, resisting the cruelty of the eternal night.

"Your choice?" the vampire questions a bit hesitantly.

"I agreed to find her...and I did. Though, saving her is now out of the question. The most I can do is reunite them in death." She responds, hanging her head low.

Her heart of heaviness, the young woman regretting those words. Time and time and again, striking down one after the next. Yet this night, these emotions making it even more unbearable. That vampire looking upon the angel, knowing that she is struggling with her decision. A solution no doubt of expectance, the princess no more than a monster now. Even so, that heart wishing to resist what is reasoning, that drive burning so far inside of the young woman. Despite it all, one having in making decisions of difficulty, even if it is one of painfulness. That princess carefully gazing at the two, their actions confusing her. Slightly propping her head, wondering of their troubles..

"..." The vampire turning.

Despair clawing away at the soul, a heart in bondage, a soul shackling down to the land. Cyra contemplating her words, her actions. Wondering of another way, hopelessness in it all. No matter so, a possibility always in existence. Disgust expressing from her eyes, witnessing this development. Actions by the hand of Richter, Hades no doubt at the center of it, this influence reflecting the Lord of Darkness. Glancing to the vampire, his vision of disapproval upon her. Despite it so, that devil in awareness that war is never an easy thing. In the end, one always having in maintaining true to themselves. A decision of foolishness, one supporting in his own way.

"It may be painful, but do what you feel is best..." He depressingly speaks.

"..."

Those words resonating inside of her, to do what she is feeling is best. A decision of difficulty no doubt, much of consideration. On one hand, this monster can turn around, trying to kill them one day. On the other hand, this innocence coming from the princess. Hardness in identifying action of correctness, reversal of the situation not of guarantee. That princess possibly living forever as a monster, an existence of horror. Even so, this heart burning deep inside, slowly breaking the shackles binding it. Standing on her side, directing Reviver at the Elven, those eyes struggling on a decision.

"Forgive me...but you must not exist in this world..." Sadness expressing deep within the maiden's voice.

Those words of the angel confusing to the princess, that beast gazing onward, slightly propping her head. That fiend noticing the weapon, this light warmly shining from the staff. Alarm coming to her, the beast squawking in anger, ascending into the sky. A threat the one below is, those talons revealing from the fiend. Even now, that angel feeling no malevolence from the monster. Her vision conflicting on her decision, whether it is to her job, or something even more important. That monster descending on her, those claws striking down, shredding an illusion of the young woman. Anya landing on her feet, looking around in confusion. That vampire stepping away, making room away from the battle. Cyra materializing behind the princess, binding her neck, aiming Rebellion at the skull of the beast.

"..."

Anya's vision glancing to the blade, tears to her eyes. Frantically squawking, the young woman freezing, hearing the crying of the princess. Her vision of painfulness, this person still maintaining some form of herself. Flailing around, that angel moving aside her blade, holding the princess still, trying to think of a solution. Yet another agonizing action, that heart desperately trying to maintain its softness, those mixture of emotions rising deep inside of her. Even if it is of difficulty, that young woman in awareness of herself, one never taking the easy way out. Squawking turning into words, this catching both the maiden and vampire off-guard.

"Lance...! Lance!! Help!!!" she wails.

Frantic her movements are, that young woman tightly keeping her grip. That heart unable in coming to a decision, her requirements, as well as her heart clashing against each other. Wrongness in raising her blade against this beast, a worse outcome of a possibility. Allowing the princess in going free of consequences, difficulty within the decision. Her heart burning even brighter, that will from so long ago slowly coming about, her head slightly hanging low. Distressing the situation is, that princess butting her head against Cyra.

"Ugh...!"

Staggering the impact is against the young woman, that angel releasing her hold on the fiend. Escaping the grasp of her execution, thumping desperately within the chest of the princess. The vampire looking on, well in awareness of Cyra struggling on this decision, her capabilities in impairment. That ending with the Prince still eating away at her, feeling that there might have been another solution, even without her former power. This princess purely of innocence, an occurrence outside of her experience, an angel always dealing with corruption in one way or another. Cyra looking in the direction of Anya, that Elven slowly backing away, tears forming in the eyes of the monster. That beast of hostility to her enemy, her heart rapidly pounding within her chest.

"You still maintain some part of your humanity I see..." Cyra distantly gazing upon her blade.

"Sta-stay away...from me...!" the princess trembling.

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