Chapter 40: Chapter 12: A Somber Morrow(Part 2)

Fear deep within the princess, her heart desperately pounding inside of her chest. The night of cruelness, her form of a monster. Despite it all, that Elven trying her best. One becoming a beast, an angel holding true to her word. Decisions of difficulty, a heart fighting against the shackles binding it. Closing her eyes in frustration, Cyra clashing against her reasoning. A job of cleansing those not belonging, wondering of the correctness. Painful it is, in awareness of the hindrance of emotions on the battlefield. That one so far inside, desires slowly rising to the surface.

"Forgive me, you must leave this world." She softly speaks.

"Is this really right...?" the vampire wondering, stomping the ground at his feet.

Wishing in stopping this, knowing of the job of those in the high heavens. Entities passing judgment, silencing all not within the balance. A heart of softness, actions ripping away at the young woman, battling against who she is. The princess stepping away, her eyes trembling, that resolve refusing in relenting. Loudly squawking, ascending into the sky. That maiden's attention above, the beast hastily circling around her. That energy intensifying, a massive tornado forming. Extending her blade, locking onto the Elven, those eyes of regret expressing from the angel. Leaping high, elevating towards the princess, swiftly striking through the beast.

Feathers of the fiend blowing away in the wind, painful screeching escaping the Elven, a powerful energy blasting the princess to the ground. The land cracking upon the impact, Cyra raising her blade high, malevolence brightly building. Her heart crying out, desperately trying to think of another solution. Descending on the fiend, that powerful force crushing down on the area. Immediately opening her eyes, fear of greatness from the princess. That maiden closing in on her, that beast rising to her feet, quickly dashing away from the assault.

Cyra continuing onward, crashing her blade into the ground, more out of frustration than anything else. That area ripping apart, massive objects wildly flying in every direction. Standing straight, her fists shaking in uncertainty. Anya slowly backing away, tears revealing in the eyes of the princess. That vampire stepping forward, his hand slowly reaching onward. Even so, that demon soon stopping himself, knowing that it is Cyra's decision to make. That heart of the past, one from the shadows lingering at the depths. A conclusion of herself, this of necessity. Gazing upon the princess, heaviness within the young woman. Crouching her stance, her blade afar.

"If only..." Her shaking voice.

Hanging her head low, pain of deepness inside of the maiden. Her voice ringing through the princess, those crimson eyes locking onto the beast. Dashing onward, that young woman breaking apart the surrounding area, revealing the reflection of the Elven upon her blade. Anya falling to her knees, closing her eyes, unable in fighting any longer. This enemy far beyond her standing, her heart quivering in each moment. The blade closing in on the princess, that resolve deep inside desperately resisting what is reasoning. Stopping herself, standing to her side, that sword directing at the neck of the Elven. Those emotions far within, a resolve from so long ago coming out. No matter how terrible the venture, one can never claim their desires taking a of easiness. Her blade slightly shaking, conflicting emotions tearing away at the angel from deep within.

"..."

Confusion coming over the princess, that salvation of death not arriving, wondering on the reasoning. Fear gripping at her, uncertainty in opening her eyes. Contemplating her decision, slowly doing so. Resting her vision on the blade of the angel, that weapon directing at her neck. Pounding deep within her chest, that fiend gazing upon the young woman. Painfulness within the angel, those eyes connecting with the Elven. Hesitation in meeting the final line, in ending the misery of the beast. Even if the solution may not be an easy one, there certainly must be another way going forward.

"..."

Time of slowness for the princess, her life in the hands of another. Only capable of looking onward, her stomach churning. That sword an inch away from silencing her, that hand shaking even more. Anger within the eyes of the maiden, not in direction of the princess, but of herself. This heart continuing to resist, desperately holding onto its softness. Emotions stirring at her core, her job in contradiction to who she is. One from the deepest of shadows slowly rising to the surface, an old resolve reflecting within the young woman. Resting her vision on the beast, one that is meaning no harm, someone not even asking for such a fate.

"..."

Extending her blade afar, the princess flinching at her action. Carefully watching the movements of the maiden, that vampire awaiting the final result. Staking her blade into the ground, that angel coming to a conclusion of worth to herself. Foolishness in her choice it may be, but that is okay, one never able in achieving their wish playing into the wheel of fate. Confusion from the princess, uncertainty of the situation. A heart existing inside of the past, knowing the full weight of every action. Power no less a double edged sword, destroying as well as creating. No matter so, two side of contradiction, power making the nigh impossible a reality. Even if her actions are reprehensible, then that is okay. No matter the turmoil ahead, even if it is an eternity of sorrow. That angel continuing to resist, trying in grasping those desires deep inside of her.

"So you have decided..." The vampire faintly smiling.

Relief coming over the vampire, that heart revealing itself once more. That one from the deepest of shadows coming into reality once again, even if it is but a somber morrow, that is okay. Infinite in emotions, those desires clawing its way to the surface. The longer the night is continuing on, the more of a certain one is returning. Those eyes of the angel more of gentleness, that princess propping her head in confusion. A strange one the maiden is, but maybe not a bad one after all. Never easy it is, taking the harder path. Even so, this feeling of naturalness to the young woman. One that is walking in the farthest of abyss, even if no one is hearing her crying, that is okay. That faintest of light guiding the way, this no less enough in continuing onward.

"You miss him huh..." Cyra softly states.

"Lance..." The voice of the princess expressing such sorrow.

"Yeah...Lance..." That maiden regrettably confirming.

"Where...is he...?" the princess questions with such pleading eyes.

Desperately hoping for the wellness of her fiancé, unsettling emotions at her depths. That angel in awareness of the news, some most depressing. The night growing stronger, that maiden having no time for a transition of delicacy. The Lord of Darkness ascending in power, those demons becoming even more unruly. That one pleading to the angel to find the princess, terrible it is. Truly wondering of another path, that action severing the life of the prince. No matter so, maybe a way existing in righting that wrong.

"Apologies...I was unable to do anything, so I ended his life..." She regrettably informs the princess.

This news once again hitting the princess like a bolt of lightning crashing down on a sunny field. Once more, Cyra's own inability in reaching. Trying so hard, such never of enough. Crouching down, tears flowing out of the princess. Slightly looking away, those shaking fists of the maiden. Frustration at her depths, those numerous actions over the years. Judgment on countless, wondering on those of avoidance. Her heart slowly coming out, hatred boiling at her core. A resolve reflecting from the shadows, one lingering in blackest of abyss.

How many lives have I struck down in the name of the gods...? Has it truly been right...? These gods may be no better than demons themselves, and I am no better having followed those orders...

Thinking for a moment, kneeling to the princess. A wrong of greatness it is, a remedy going against her role. Even so, a way in correcting the mistake that has been done. A solution in mind, selfishness rising to the surface. No matter so, now and then it is okay. One having in facing those wrongs they have done, this much she can do for the princess. Gently resting her hand on the head of the Elven, those tearing eyes meeting the young woman. Anya embracing her, letting out her feelings. That angel allowing her to properly grieve, difficult it must have been.

"Shed no more tears, there might be a way to bring him back, and return you both to your original forms..." Cyra softly informing the princess.

Those words catching the attention of the Elven, her tears slowly going away. Moving back a bit, gazing into the eyes of the young woman. Wondering of the truth in it all, her vision of hopefulness once more. No matter how unlikely it may be, so long as there is a minuscule chance of success, it is well worth holding onto the smallest of light. To be able to return to normal, to reunite with Lance. That princess slowly calming, slightly looking down. One so powerful, defying the natural order, providing the possibility of reversing this transformation, surreal it is seeming.

"H—how..?"

Unbelievable it is to her understanding, one having influence over life. Gods possessing this ability no less, but others of doubt. A chance in existence, an effort most worth in pursuing, normalcy of a possibility within her life once again. Those days of joy inside of the past, smiling so long ago. Everything falling apart, the eternal night making her reality into a nightmare. Devils around every corner, horror plaguing the kingdom. No matter of the unlikeliness of it all, that will to continue on taking hold. One from the deepest of abyss coming into reality, that heart settling on a decision, being true to itself.

"I will need to regain my former power, only then will I be able to do the nigh impossible. It is not something I am supposed to do, but just this once I will overturn this law, okay...?" Cyra softly explaining.

"O—okay..."

Power of grandness, difficult it is believing. That young woman giving her hope, this knowledge of value. One capable of overturning the law of life, an action of reprehensibility. Even so, the angel following her desires, even if she is to make countless more enemies. Rising from the ground, Anya doing the same. That vampire walking in, standing behind the maiden. That one remaining who she is far inside, no matter of the many wrongs she has done. Looking upon the princess, Cyra proceeding with the rest of the message.

"Anya...he was a brave and admirable man. You were always on his mind, until the very end..." That maiden informing her.

"Lance...he...he never came back...Richter...Richter did this to me...why...?" she pleadingly questions.

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"Answering that would be like answering why there is murder in the first place. From what I can tell from a general standing point, he despised the king for the loss of his family." Cyra explaining, slightly looking away.

Hatred deep within, a family no more. That former knight desperately trying to move onward, yet that pain never leaving him. The one responsible living it up in a life of luxury, those feelings growing harsher over the years. No matter how hard the late king has been trying to right his wrongs, those actions never being enough. Desires of powerfulness, that former knight aligning with the Lord of Darkness. Even if the wrong upon him has been so great, this destruction no less of a scale too far. Emotions high inside of the night, reasoning dictating the course onward.

"..."

"Anya...if you want to see him again, I will need your help, okay?" Cyra looking into her eyes.

"My...help...? How...?" she props her head in confusion.

"This is a war, there is only so much I can do on my own. If you can assist me in the battle against Hades, then we will have a much greater chance of returning everything to normal here." Cyra softly explaining.

"I—I will try..." Anya timidly speaks.

"Thank you." Cyra faintly smiling.

The longer the night is continuing on, the more dire it is becoming. One's capability of limitation in her own, hope residing within her palms. Faltering meaning an end, one against an endless army of demons. Despite it all, a certain protective nature coming over her. Cyra feeling responsibility for the safety of the Elven, that one in reflection to a younger sibling. Even if the assistance is not much, it will certainly make her path easier. No matter how far she must go, that will to oppose constantly taking hold. Even if the chances are minuscule at best, that one from so long ago always willing in grabbing hold of the nigh impossible.

"You've come far, resisting your duty. Indeed, that resolve from so long ago is slowly returning. Even if the chances are minuscule at best, keep resisting...Cyra." The vampire faintly smiling, looking up to the velvet moon.

A night of eternity, unification in the presence of countless sorrow. That blood moon hanging so high, one cursing those within its path. Darkness descending, one not having in playing by the rules. That will to oppose what is reasoning, an old resolve burning deep inside of the young woman. Wherever this night shall lead, she will continue walking down this endless abyss. Those rebelling against rationality, behaving irrationally, actions birthing a new form of reasoning. A will continuously opposing, giving hope to the hopeless.

—The Past Revisited—

—18 Days Ago—

The night at an unrest, that blood moon shining down its beauty upon the land. Demons lurking throughout the shadows, pain infinitely extending. That castle continuing to stand, even if it is just a bit. Within the room of the princess, hearing of the demise of Lance crashing against her. Even more so than this, learning of possible options. Hesitation inside of her, an event difficult in believing of realness. A mixture of emotions grabbing hold of her, fear and hatred altogether. Horror of the outcome, hatred for not having any time to properly grieve. Despite it all, that heart desperately hoping that the prince is alive, that it is all of inaccuracy.

"My options...? What do you mean...?" Anya hesitantly questions.

"Well, there is no King, no Queen, and there is no Prince. There is only you now, and many knights." Richter explaining.

That King losing his life to the fallen one, the Queen residing in the wind. That Prince no longer with them as well, the weight of it all crushing down upon her shoulders. Dreadful it may be, but these pieces falling into place. Only a few more to go, the goal of the knight approaching the reality he is desiring. Facing in her direction, a smirk extending from his face. This shifting in his posture, more uneasiness growing inside of her. Another turn, an action most of suspicion to the princess.

"I was thinking you can be more use to our new lord hm hm."

"New lord? What are you speaking of?!" she alarmingly questions.

Hearing of this, a new lord. Words of little sense, her heart quivering. Steadily rationalizing his message, that knight of a traitor. The reality of it all slowly setting in, the disaster that is happening. None on the throne, the kingdom in jeopardy. Knights without leadership, a pack of humans having no purpose of directness. A new power of a possibility, those eyes of the Elven slightly trembling. Everything making more sense by the moment, Richter having his reasoning in taking such actions extremity.

"Ah, Hades will be proud to have yet another minion hm hm."

Chuckling a bit, extending his hand towards the princess. Darkness swirling around the room, a pentagram of malevolence materializing in front of him. That blackness grabbing hold of the Elven, agony of greatness upon her. Feeling herself ripping apart from the inside out, horrifying screaming escaping her, none hearing her crying. Wings sprouting from her back, her body expanding, shifting into a griffin on the lower half. That top of her body remaining a person, darkness leaving her, that pentagram of malevolence disappearing. Anya standing there, observing the room in confusion. That beast soon looking straight at the knight, his vision more of proudness at his work. That princess squawking in confusion, a fiend with intelligence of littleness. Richter turning towards the balcony, pointing at it. Anya facing in the direction, her eyes resting on the wide open sky.

"Now go on, go out there, and do some hunting my pet hm hm." He devilishly smiles.

Despite his words, that fear remaining inside of her. That wide open sky providing safety away from this place, this much she is knowing. Expanding her wings, Anya flying towards the balcony. Richter following behind, soon standing out on the platform, his vision resting on the beast flying far away. Turning away, faintly smiling, shrugging at the whole situation. Regrettable this is, but no doubt this being one step closer towards his desires. No matter how far he must go, one willing in grasping his deepest desire. Even if his actions are of reprehensibility, then that is fine.

"You will have to forgive me Anya, I really do not hold any resentment towards you or that prince really..." He heads off to yet another one of his jobs.

—Present Time—

Dust blowing through the wasteland, that area resting with rubble. The unpredictable night, shifting in every moment. That princess standing close to the maiden, finding her a friend as well a sisterly figure. Even if it is but a somber morrow, a way always in existence towards a brighter morrow. Anya grasping a small bit of hope once again, knowing that there is a chance in reversing all of this. Everything residing in the capabilities of the angel, one willing to ignore her duties, even if it shall mean making even more enemies. That heart of softness holding true to itself, no matter the morrow ahead. Cyra turning in the direction of the Royal Crypts, placing her hand upon her waist.

"Our next stop is the Royal Crypts." Her voice calm yet confident.

Lowering her arm, gripping the hilt of Rebellion, removing it from the ground. That young woman placing it away, heading onward deeper into the endless night. Those eyes of the angel resting upon the velvet moon, that object bringing her such unease, the familiarity of it. Unnerving it is, that young woman wondering of the memories residing inside of it. One from the past slowly returning to the surface, emotions clawing its way to the top, an unwavering resolve. One embracing their imperfections and selfish desires, becoming corruption itself. That entity damning the Nine Worlds, all to achieve their deepest desire. Many questions lingering within her, the night slowly providing more answers. Anya and the vampire looking at the other for a moment, soon following behind. That demon knowing all too well that a certain one is returning, that last hope residing in the farthest of darkness.

"And now this is officially a road-trip!" the vampire cheering.

"Ignore him, he has a few screws loose in his head." Cyra states to Anya.

A personality reminding of another, one of familiarity. Joy existing within the night, an experience not of badness. Morality constantly faltering, that one continuously making the venture a pleasureful one. Incapability of engaging in battle, one providing support in his own way. Anya in awareness of the oddity of the vampire, even by her standard. Joyously squawking, that princess ascending high into the air, flying ahead. No matter the morrow, no matter the sorrow, even if the night is horrifying, there is always hope. Even if the chances are minuscule at best, that one from the deepest of abyss always willing in grabbing hold of the nigh impossible.

Destruction may be around me, those many sins of my past. No matter so, I will face up to my wrongs, continuing on with a strong heart. Those gods...Magi's, I am finished following your orders.

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