Chapter 49: Chapter 14: Growing Fear(Part 2)

High above the valley, over the many clouds, that fallen angel soaring through. Feathers burning in malevolence descending to the ground. Dissipating into dust, cloaking the land below in a mist of blackness. The fallen one thinking back to how far her other half has come, those eyes of the past, the struggling up until this point. Wondering of Cyra's drive, that will in continuing on. Falling so far, taking on a war much beyond her capabilities. Despite it all, that resolve burning even stronger, that entity surpassing her limitation. That seal slowly breaking away, one from so long ago returning to the surface. Darkness inside of innocence, desires reaching for the nigh impossible. That separation seeming so long ago, that inferior entity rising to the challenge at hand.

"To think you have come this far, Cyra. You who are inferior to me, I cannot help but to feel a bit proud. Though, that sense of respect I have of you, has been clouded by this unyielding rage I feel for you." She faintly smiles.

Those memories of the past, desires burning even stronger. Two halves once whole, one of innocence, the other of malice. Both thriving to achieve their deepest desire, no matter what it may take. A heart in the endless night, a soul reaching out. Minuscule the chances may be, but this no less enough to resist what is reasoning. Even if the morrow ahead is but a somber one, that is okay. A heart yearning to be free, a soul breaking away from the shackles of the land. Desires clashing against each other, both reaching their hand into this game of chance that is life. Rose reflecting on the past, that one in her incomplete state resisting what is reasoning.

Those fields of irises blooming underneath the bleeding moon, the refreshing air. Desires resting inside of the past, a heart in so much pain. Cyra laying unconscious on the ground, a tear drop being to her eye. Rose standing with her back facing the maiden, those eyes glancing back to her. Pitiful the sight is if anything, one refusing to face into the reality that is ahead. No matter so, even if her hatred for the young woman is so deep, that fallen one feeling some sort of responsibility.

One better off meeting her end on the battlefield, rather than in a state of vulnerability. The breeze of coldness, those crimson eyes slowly opening. Raising to her knees, looking around, soon noticing the presence of her other half. Those wings of malevolence, feathers of darkness descending to the land. Raising her hand, catching one of those feathers. That object burning away inside of her palm, turning into dust, blowing away in the wind. Dreadfulness of her vision upon the sight, the fallen one in awareness of that heart of softness.

"It is about time you got up." Rose calmly states.

"..."

Standing from the ground, that young woman slowly looking around. Those fields of flowers going on and on, her vision turning to the blood moon high in the sky. The familiarity of it striking down to her core, these emotions inside of her. Holding the side of her head, her memories of haziness. Those eyes of hers expressing such pain, Rose facing in the direction of her other half. Pitiable this sight is, no matter so, that angel needing a reality check. That staff of the damned, directing it at the young woman. Cyra glancing in the direction, confusion revealing from her. Slowly lowering her arm, facing the fallen one. Those azure eyes connecting with the angel ahead, pitiableness within her gaze.

"Tell me Cyra, why do you still stand?" Rose questions.

"..."

Slightly looking down, unable in answering. These dreadful emotions inside of her, those memories being no more. Everything so confusing to her, the wind gentle but unsettling, that bleeding moon high above. One that is unable to determine their reasoning for residing on the battlefield, frustration growing inside of the fallen one. Raising her staff, striking down at the young woman. Cyra holding her arms in the way, blocking the assault. Stepping away, her body trembling by this crushing force. That darkness burning from the fallen one, those eyes of strictness.

"Cyra, you have no place in this war, so leave." Rose speaks a bit more strictly.

"I...cannot...I have to find Valor..."

Unawareness of the previous occurrence, that deity possibility no more. Memories no longer inside of the angel, pitifulness in it all. The harshness of the night, those irises flowing in the wind. Sweeping her staff off of the ground, striking the angel once again. Cyra blocking the attack, skidding back on the land, pain excruciating upon her. Aiming her staff forward, electricity of malevolence surging around the area. Petals widely blowing in the wind, Cyra glancing around, the attack binding her in place, raising her high off of the ground. That maiden struggling, her vision resting on the fallen one so far below. Uneasiness rising within her, uncertainty of a solution in turning the situation. Her heart of painfulness, one residing in the deepest of abyss.

"Look at you Cyra, unable to even defend against such an attack! You are not cutout for war, forget about that god, and go somewhere safe!" Rose harshly states.

"I may not...have a heart for the battlefield. No matter so, I will find him..." She struggles.

That heart in so much pain, those emotions rising to the surface. Darkness spiraling around the young woman, that thickening force. This energy, Rose carefully looking on, the binding of her ability coming undone. Keeping her eyes upon the descending blackness, that negativity disappearing, her vision slightly widening. An ancient sword stretching out of the darkness, those symbols burning upon it. Fading malevolence, Cyra standing upon her side, that weapon aiming in the direction of the fallen one. A blade hiding inside the deepest of darkness, a last lifeline in place. Those crimson eyes refusing to give in, even if it is but a somber morrow.

"Those eyes..." Rose disgustingly speaks.

"Rose, we can stop this, we can right this wrong...!" Cyra pleading.

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"Even if we can, I have no interest in doing so...after all, I have my own desires." That fallen one floating just above the ground.

Those two mighty entities meeting on the battlefield, Cyra rushing ahead, her resolve holding strong. That blade closing in upon the fallen one, crashing against the staff. Unfazed those eyes of the fallen one are, her determination igniting even stronger. Expanding those mighty wings, flapping them hard. Powerful gusts of wind pushing away the young woman, Cyra skidding back upon her feet. Rising high into the air, that maiden uneasily resting her vision upon the fallen angel so high. Twirling that staff in hand, electricity of negativity surging through her, transferring to her weapon. Directing her staff at the maiden, unleashing the devastating lightning of malevolence. Electricity racing down, striking the area along with the young woman. Massive portions of the land wildly flying in every direction. Resisting the pain, her eyes upon the descending fallen one, rushing her blade swiftly in an uppercut, shattering her surroundings.

Rose slightly turning, evading the assault, her staff sweeping the young woman high into the air. Ascending towards the maiden, Cyra's body binding far into the sky. Flying around the area, striking the maiden from every direction, rebounding afar, continuing the assault. That fallen one rushing above, descending on the young woman, colliding through her. Landing far below, negativity compressing, violently releasing. Blasting Cyra to the ground, that angel crashing into the land, breaking apart the field. Her body in excruciating pain, her will resisting the battle ahead. Rising to her knee, blood streaming down her face, catching her breath. That fallen one standing in front of her, directing that staff at the young woman. Those azure eyes of strictness, Cyra looking on in unease. Rebellion staking in the ground from afar, the battle no doubt having a conclusion.

"This is the type of power you need Cyra, without Reviver, you do not have a chance." Rose lowering her staff.

"Perhaps not, I may perish. Even so, I will right this wrong, and I will find Valor..." She states in determination.

Her body of weakness, her power no more, but that will to oppose still remaining. Even if the chances are minuscule at best, that angel continuing onward. That resolve meeting the challenges at hand, no matter of the unlikeliness. Rose closing her eyes, this coming as little surprise in all actuality. That angel always following her own way forward, even if it is nigh impossible. Admirable really, but also a bit infuriating. No matter so, allowing the young woman in proving herself. Desires inside of the two, both thriving for their own ends. Foolishness in not ending the life of the angel, but something deep inside of the fallen one is preventing her from doing so. Ascending off of the ground, that fallen angel flying high into the air.

"Very well, pursue me if you must. Though, next time, I will not be lenient with you." Rose softly speaks.

Those feathers of malevolence raining down, Cyra rising to her feet, her sorrowful eyes. Those wings now of darkness, her heart in so much pain. Despite it all, some hope in existence. The wind of gentleness, that bleeding moon shining down. Two halves once whole, one of innocence, and the other of malice, both having their own goal in mind. Desires deep inside, a will burning even stronger. Even if it is but a somber morrow, those two pursuing their own end. A nightmare plaguing the world of the humans, but such providing an opportunity.

Soaring through the endless sky, that blood moon beautifully shining down. That fallen one remembering that encounter all too well, how far Cyra has come. One that has been so weak, making her way through the nigh impossible. Admirable really, but also infuriating. Even so, a choice of positivity, allowing her in living. The body of the Harmonizer up for the taking, that body capable of even rivaling the Seraph herself as well as the Iconoclast. Infinite in mysteries the night is, but such constantly providing countless opportunities.

"If I can drain the power of the Harmonizer for my own. Then there will be nothing standing in my way...not even you, Cyra." She calmly thinks.

Her vision resting on the destination below, that fallen one expanding her wings, descending at an extremely fast speed. Soft Cyra may be, but also relentless if she must. Desires deep inside, two halves aiming to achieve their own wish. Even if it is but a somber morrow, it certainly does not mean it is hopeless. That will to oppose reasoning constantly taking hold, to be able to do the nigh impossible. All the while, passing far across the lands, the castle of the Dragonkins coming into view. Deep within, inside of the throne room, the next phase quickly coming into motion. In the far corner of the room, Raiser's body entombing inside of a crystal. No doubt for preservation until it is of necessity to use, the Prince of Dragons standing before Lucia, that servant lowering her head before him. Always a shy one, that dragon well in awareness of this. Breaking her out of her shell not of an easy thing, Lucia always returning to it.

"Well done, Lucia." He complements.

"Um...Prince..." She holds her hand to her chest.

"I told you time and time and again. Please, just call me Raphael." His voice gentle upon her.

Lucia knowing that quite well, especially of their current standing. Those two of great friends, yet she has always done so out of respect. Those days of the past seeming so long ago, but experiences of dearness. Continuously treating her as an equal, two sharing laughter time and time and again. The night of dreadfulness, but Raphael always doing everything he can to bring it to an end. A bond strong between the two, even if the morrow ahead is a somber one, that will to resist constantly taking hold. No matter so, Lucia thinking back to her encounter with Cyra, uneasiness clearly upon her face.

"Um...Raphael...we are not dealing with an ordinary enemy. I fear our very kingdom may be destroyed..." Lucia's tone a bit timid, the servant looking at him.

"Who are we dealing with?" folding his arms, his expression more of seriousness.

"An angel...and her power...it's truly frightening..." She answers with hesitation in her voice.

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