Chapter 7: Chapter 3: A Shattered Soul(Part 1)

—Garden—

Sins of deepness, regret eating away at the core. Blissful the wind can be, but also horrifying as well. One that is willing to dive into the deepest of darkness, to be able to right the wrong that has been done. Even so, perhaps further inside resting a secret hiding away.  A resolve reflecting from so long ago, that will to oppose what is reasoning taking hold. The air growing heavier by the hour, the wind feeling at an unrest. From deep below, a marvelous garden revealing itself from the illuminating moonlight. Many layers of bushes stacking high, almost like a maze. From one end to the next, many variations of flowers and decors. To top it all off, right at the center resting a fountain area. Statues on both sides, one of the late King, and another of the Queen. The mysterious assailant's dark wings cloaking the night, that fallen one floating along, frustration growing within her by the second.

"I must find it...I can feel her presence..."

"I suppose it should be no surprise that you would come this far, Cyra. I must say I am impressed, a coward like yourself hm hm. This time though, he is not here to save you."

Conflict between two, both from highness. Even if Cyra may be weak, that resolve constantly pushing forward. This more than anything enraging the fallen one, but also an enlightening experience one can say. Rose ascending to the sky, leaving behind a trail of black feathers, a race against time. Something of great importance, an item capable of shaping the outcome of the war. Two halves once whole, one of innocence, another of malice. Within the endless night, there can be those of similarity, despite the differences. The town plaguing with fiendish creatures, demons lurking in the shadows, those ravenous eyes searching for another victim. 

The gateway to the castle layering with bodies of the guards, blood resting on the surrounding area. Slowly following along the path, taking caution to the entity presenting themselves within the area. Lining along the path are statues of the valiant, warriors once giving their lives in war. Heroes they are, knights gaining the acknowledgment of the late King himself. Footsteps sounding within the night, tension growing by the second. That maiden standing there, folding her arms, looking ahead to the monster blocking her path. Eyes slightly of irritation, that fiend in awareness. An incubus whose skin is very pale, one wearing a dark cloak, brightly burning a malefic energy.

"Oh? Little lost angel, this is not exactly the best place to be at this time." A bit of flare extending from the incubus. 

Those lurking in the night coming in all sorts of forms, some intimidating, others not so much. Even so, foolish it will be in underestimating even the lowest of enemies. Reinforcements of an impossibility, a war on one's own. Even if the chances are not within her favor, it is fine. After all, so long as there is a slight ray of hope, then that is all that will be of requirement. That angel resting her vision upon the incubus for a moment, soon standing upon her side. The endless night, a nightmare attracting many from the depths of nothingness, bringing chaos wherever it goes. 

"Perhaps not I would agree. Though—" she directs her blade at the demon.

"—I will have entry one way or another, this is your choice. We can do this the easy way, or we can do this a much more painful way." She threatens, her expression slightly of annoyance.

"Well this situation flipped quite fast...ya know, I can see why you're still single." His expression a bit dumbfounded.

Not much for words, enemies uncaring for trivialities. Living on the battlefield, willingness in striking. Even so, deep down her heart of softness always giving a chance. Ignoring his comment, that maiden having little to no time to spare with this devil. Potentially wasting her time, expectance of this. The longer the night is dragging on, the more powerful these demons will become. Cruelness underneath the twilight, enemies roaming within its vastness. Dictation by another, slimness of chances. Holding onto the faintest of hope, proceeding down a path of grimness.

"Enough, move aside." Her voice calm upon him.

Direness of the situation, staying true to her heart of softness. Foolishness of it, this of her nature at her core. Deep down, that maiden well in awareness that requesting such of someone will almost never work. An almost fruitless endeavor, but that is okay. One can say it may even be a basic right, allowing a chance in saving their lives. No matter so, those words continuously falling on deaf ears. Naturalness of it, yet undying sentiments.

"No can do." He shrugs.

This coming as no surprise, an enemy almost never heeding a warning. Even so, this is mattering little. That young woman holding true to herself, this is all she can do. Now there is really only one option remaining, to continue on even if it shall result in blood. Conflict never an easy thing, after all, much can be of avoidance. No matter so, this being of little possibility towards a much more simpler path. A fairy tale and nothing more, almost none having willingness in complying. Infinite in mystery the night is, but all the same with her countless enemies.

"Why is that? Hades orders?" her tone slightly serious upon him. 

"Well, at least you're sharp." He casually expands his arms.

Fiends suffering from mutation, those many watching from the shadows. Enemies locking their vision on the maiden, walking out towards her. One being a griffin from the depths of Hell itself, and the other a lion from a similar place as well. That incubus looking behind her, a sly smile coming to his face, his expression leaving the maiden a bit in confusion. A chilling breeze striking down her spine, her heart rate hastening.

"You my dear, walked right into this one." He folds his arms.

That maiden glancing to the griffin, the beast hitting its claw against the ground, the lion growling at her as well. That young woman turning her attention to the incubus, the fiend expressing such a triumphant expression. A trap from the beginning, one of expectance no less. Even so, catching her off-guard. That lion and griffin slowly approaching her, the angel stepping away. Her current state of weakness, a difficult bind she is within. No matter so, that resolve continuing to burn evermore strong inside of her.

"I have to retrieve what is rightfully mine..." She scowls in some unease.

Days of joy, the blissful sunlight shining through a throne room. A familiar person standing in front of the angel, presenting a crimson staff to her. That angel taking a moment, gazing upon it in surprise. That one evermore dear giving onto her a weapon of great value, perhaps a bond going even more deep.

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"For me...?"

"If there is anyone I can trust with this weapon, it's you."

I never should have...

"Are you finished daydreaming...or...night dreaming...? Eh, I'll figure out the right term later at this point. Anyway, consider me the nice guy for—"

That voice sparking slight rage inside of the young woman, that memory evermore dear to her. Even if her situation is grim, it does not mean there is no hope. An endless night this may be, her power may not be there any longer, but that is okay. Without hesitation, that maiden rushing ahead, instantly striking the neck of the incubus. The head of the devil leaving his body, falling to the ground from afar. That body of the demon soon following as well, descending to the land. 

"—You talk too much." Cyra interrupting.

Cold the wind is feeling, unsettling even. No matter so, that maiden standing there, facing her enemies. Those two glaring at her, cautiousness of their opponent. Even if the heart is in bondage, that is fine, that will to resist, that drive to continue onward. Cyra standing upon her side, directing her blade strongly at her enemies, those eyes of the angel piercing through them.

"You can still run along now, I will not pursue." She glares.

Prideful these beasts are, too much so one can say. Those enemies unwilling to retreat from battle, proceeding onward with their intention. Those fiends slowly circling the young woman, fangs revealing from the lion, both taking careful eye of her actions. That growling of the lion, and the squawking of the griffin. Scraping their claw and talon against the ground, anger escaping the monsters.

"I can never understand...why lives such as these exist. Even so, why do I exist?  I wonder, can this night answer that question?" Cyra distantly thinking.

That griffin ascending into the sky, revealing its mighty talons. The maiden taking notice, that fiend descending upon her, its talons directing at her. Her eyes meeting with the griffin in an instant, her blade reflecting the beast. That angel severing the claw of the monster in that moment, blood spilling far upon the ground. Immediately following up, that maiden striking through the griffin, severing its head straight from its body. Standing with her back facing the lifeless monster, the corpse falling to the ground with its head not too far. The lion witnessing its opportunity, that beast rushing at the maiden from behind. The angel glancing back, those crimson eyes locking onto her target. Her blade meeting the skull of the lion in an instant, Cyra proudly standing upon her side, glaring down upon the beast. Watching its life fading away from its very eyes. Removing her blade from the skull of the monster, watching its corpse falling to the ground, her vision gentle upon it.

"Apologies, but I must be going now."

That angel turning in the direction of the gate, looking upon it, one of certainty of the difficulty in entering the castle. Cyra folding her arms in a thinking posture, an idea soon coming to her mind. Turning her attention to the lifeless body of the incubus, perhaps this fiend has some uses she is thinking. Moving towards the body, that maiden kneeling to it. Searching the body of the incubus, misfortune befalling her. Unfortunately, the devil does not possess a key into the castle.

"I suppose I have to break down the gate." She sighs in disappointment.

Approaching the gate, her blade in hand. Rushing forward, striking at the object ahead. A powerful barrier emitting, repelling her attack. Forcing her away, that young woman skidding back upon her feet. Cyra taking a moment, gathering herself, shaking off the initial shock of it all. That angel standing there, positioning her arms in a thinking posture once again, a strong defense in place. 

"No doubt Hades has put into place this barrier to keep me out. If I can find my weapon, then I can surely shatter it." She thinks.

Disappointing this is, but one of expectance. Disheartening one can say, to be so close, yet so far away. That maiden distantly looking towards her right, then to her left. Uncertainty on the direction to take, confusing of the endless night. There is no support, only herself. However, there is still a chance no doubt. That heart trying to hold strong, no matter the trial that is ahead.

"I cannot tell which direction my weapon is...and Rose...she is moving around quite a lot, so it is likely she has not found it as well."

That is something...too precious to give up. That is something you cannot have, Rose.

Cyra turning to her left, walking onward. Even if it is but a somber morrow, that young woman continuously pressing onward. No matter the sorrow, it does not mean it is hopeless. One willing in diving into the deepest of darkness, to be able to reach out, to grab hold of the nigh impossible. An old fire sparking anew, a resolve so deep coming into reality, this being the will to oppose what is reasoning.

Gathering the shattered remains of myself...is that even possible...? Even if it is...what I have done is unforgivable...still...I must try. Others should not have to suffer for the wrong I have done...

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