Chapter 8: Chapter 3: A Shattered Soul(Conclusion)

Endlessness of the night, horrifying it is. Dreadful emotions clawing away at the soul, even so, this will to continue on. No matter the morrow, no matter the sorrow, a heart yearning to grab hold of its deepest desire. Even if tomorrow is but a somber one, then that is okay. One willing to dive into the deepest of abyss, a resolve from long ago taking hold by the moment. A night of infinite mysteries, but maybe it can also reveal a deeper reality. Powerful it may make demons, but within its atrocity, an even harsher one may reside. Cyra standing at the end of the path, looking up into the velvet moon. That floating orb cursing the night to be eternal. Her vision evermore distant upon the object, those eyes reflecting the very moon that is damning them. Holding her hand to her chest, the maiden slightly looking down. It is hard to say exactly why she is feeling such a way. The familiarity of it, the sorrow lingering deep inside of her. Indeed the night is a mysterious place, one infinite in mystery. These many emotions circulating inside of her, trying to break free.

"This moon may be a curse...but why does it seem so familiar...?"

Emotions rising to the surface, fear clawing away at her heart. Holding the side of her head, falling to her knee. The moon seeming evermore familiar to her, a curse it may be, an eternal nightmare upon them. Emotions growing stronger and stronger with each passing moment, Cyra experiencing great pain penetrating her mind. Deep anguish coming from those familiar feelings. A memory it may be, confusion in the reasoning for its pain. Agony gripping at the soul, unrest inside of her.

The wind gently blowing in a field of flowers. Petals moving in the wind, and high above, stretching far into the sky revealing a moon beautifully shining red. Far below within those fields, Cyra standing there in front of someone that is all too familiar. The maiden in gold. That feathery helm, and crimson cape of nobility extending from the lower half of her back. The young woman aiming a dark revolver at the man wearing armor in representation of his cherished beliefs. A gentle smile upon the other, the maiden balancing a mysterious blade upon her shoulder. Cyra speaking a few words, the person slightly looking on with dreadful eyes, soon faintly smiling, nodding in compliance. Both charging at the other, his katana and her blade at the other's neck.

Her eyes opening, the maiden standing up. The wind unsettling upon her, painful emotions gripping at her heart. Uncertainty expressing from her mood, the young woman knowing all too well of who the person is. However, the words that have been spoken, she has been unable to hear it. Deep unrest residing inside of her, as if a heavy sadness is returning to the surface. Agonizing it is, indescribable dread taking hold of her. A heart yearning to be free, yet remaining in bondage. Shackles appearing to bind her, even so, this will to resist taking hold of her by the second.

Fear may be a better word for it, these emotions in which she is wishing to flee from. Those memories hiding away inside of the past, the maiden feeling herself sinking away into a pit of despair. A mixture of emotions taking hold of her, wrath, greed, envy, and so much more. No matter so, even if she must fall into nothingness, knowing those memories will certainly bring some enlightenment. The angel hearing footsteps approaching, immediately directing her blade at the neck of a winged skeletal being, her vision cold upon the fiend. That burning resolve reaching the monster, darkness slowly seeping from the body of the angel. This familiarity of it, fear taking hold of the being. The monster slowly backing away, intense pressure crushing down upon it.

Cyra raising her blade with her right hand, feeling as if she has done this many times before. These emotions inside of her, the mixture of it all. Rage slowly taking hold of her, that soft heart trying to maintain who she is. Her sword stretching afar, the monster turning away, trying to escape the area. Rushing ahead, plunging her blade through the back of the fiend, a terrifying screech escaping its mouth. Swiftly striking up, rendering it in half. That young woman crashing her blade down into the ground, immensely tearing apart the area. This unyielding rage inside of her, these many desires clawing its way from deep within. Trying to calm herself, holding the hilt of her blade with both of her hands. The young woman looking on, witnessing the remains of the winged being burning into dust, its essence blowing away within the wind. Extending her sword, calmly placing it away.

Distantly gazing up into the sky, watching the clouds high above slowly moving along. Those memories deep inside, wondering what they can mean. Such emotions feeling familiar to her, yet so distant as well. That rage inside of her slowly subsiding, her heart paining by the moment. This night no doubt holding valuable answers, such exertion causing her unease. Even to her harshest enemies, she will at least give some sort of mercy. However, in that moment, something entirely different coming over her. Emotions familiar yet distant, a memory not making any sense towards her. Horrifying this is, yet comforting as well. Holding her hand to her chest, those crimson eyes evermore distant upon the blood moon.

That memory...it was of him...but why...? Why did it seem so sad...? These emotions inside of me. I am afraid to remember, but I must know...for now...I shall continue onward.