This is for the best.

30 Jan 2013

marypsue:

resurrecttheliving:

Rereblogging this because I’m not over it. It’s like an even more fantastical Buffy AU. Ughhhh, I want to write a story about this.
Also, adding source. Apparently, this artist worked on the The Prince of Egypt, The Road to Eldorado, and The Princess and the Frog, among others. Sweet.

I reblogged this once but now it has the source!

He had been a golden prince, once. But immortality and a life lived with no regard for consequence had changed his heart and warped his body. There was no peace left in his soul, no caring left in his mind. Life had become one numb cycle of day and night after another. Until the day he saw her.
He’d stayed to watch the battle, not caring about the outcome. Whether the goblins survived or the humans made no difference to the length or quality of his life. They tasted equally horrible as far as he was concerned. She stood in the middle of the humans, toward the front, dressed in an incongruous white dress, as though she’d been transported into the fray from a painting, from another world. But she moved as though she belonged, the long sword in her hands singing through the air as though it was an extension of her will. He barely noticed her long hair and fine features. He was too mesmerized by the fierce determination in her eyes, and the iron set to her jaw. Confidence and hope radiated from her, and even as far as he was, he could feel the warmth of her aura tickle the memories of his youth.
Little by little, he saw the tide begin to turn. The goblins outnumbered the humans as always, but this time, the humans attacked almost as though they’d been trained, and he realized it was because of this girl. Somehow, she’d coalesced this rag-tag army into a perfectly-honed machine of destruction. The cavalry swung around the outer perimeter, cutting through the goblin ranks like talons through flesh. The ones who weren’t eviscerated turned and ran.
Seeing her soldiers fleeing, the goblin queen screamed in frustration and anger and swung her fell-beast toward the girl. Somehow, the ugly creature had realized the source of the humans’ new-found success and was headed straight toward the girl. She marshaled two of her generals with a flick of her claw, and they moved to flank the girl, whose back was turned, lost in a berzerker’s heat of battle.
He didn’t know what make him take wing, but before he could even draw breath, he was racing through the sky, begging the gods who had abandoned him long ago to speed his flight, get him to her on time. Without her, the humans stood no chance. Without her, the world would be a dimmer place.
He’d started so much further than the queen, as fast as he was, fear that he wouldn’t be fast enough choked him. He was so close when he saw the queen arch her back and hurtle her spear, armed with every last ounce of her fury, toward the girl. A hair’s breath later, the generals launched their swords. There was no time to decelerate. The girl turned, sensing the danger just as he hit her, arms and claws extended, wrapping his wings around hers, hoping his body would protect her from the impact. He felt the familiar fire of pain lance through his body as the spear struck his back, and the long-forgotten sense of relief that at least it hadn’t hit her.
They landed, rolling through the ice and snow, and when they finally came to a stop, the sounds of the battle were far behind them. The girl struggled wildly to her feet, scrabbling and running in panic. He tried to get up and assure her that he meant her no harm, but the pain was excruciating. He didn’t know he was still capable of feeling pain like that. She grabbed a tree branch and swung back toward him, ever the warrior, and he was filled with pride in this unknown girl. He met her eyes, and was surprised when hers widened. She dropped the stick."You saved me," she whispered. "You’re hurt."
She came toward him gingerly, one hand outstretched. He tried to tell her that he would be fine, that his immortality was just taking longer than usual this time but he was frozen in place. He sank to the ground in wonderment. It felt like…like he was dying.
She touched his shoulder, and ran a hand down his leathery wing, dropping to her knees next to him. He wanted to stop her, explain that he’d been beautiful once, a proud warrior who’d bowed to no man, but he would have followed her into battle. He would have stood beside her. He would have knelt before her when she was a queen, but his words were gone. All these years, he thought, the centuries and millenia behind him, and all it took was one selfless act to end this curse of life. Was this really the first selfless act of his life? It was unbearable to believe.
The sky grew dark as he lay in the snow. The girl’s hot tears were a benediction on his forehead, forgiveness at last. It was time. And at least her face, her beautiful face, would be the last thing he ever saw.

marypsue:

resurrecttheliving:

Rereblogging this because I’m not over it. It’s like an even more fantastical Buffy AU. Ughhhh, I want to write a story about this.

Also, adding source. Apparently, this artist worked on the The Prince of Egypt, The Road to Eldorado, and The Princess and the Frog, among others. Sweet.

I reblogged this once but now it has the source!

He had been a golden prince, once. But immortality and a life lived with no regard for consequence had changed his heart and warped his body. There was no peace left in his soul, no caring left in his mind. Life had become one numb cycle of day and night after another. Until the day he saw her.

He’d stayed to watch the battle, not caring about the outcome. Whether the goblins survived or the humans made no difference to the length or quality of his life. They tasted equally horrible as far as he was concerned. She stood in the middle of the humans, toward the front, dressed in an incongruous white dress, as though she’d been transported into the fray from a painting, from another world. But she moved as though she belonged, the long sword in her hands singing through the air as though it was an extension of her will. He barely noticed her long hair and fine features. He was too mesmerized by the fierce determination in her eyes, and the iron set to her jaw. Confidence and hope radiated from her, and even as far as he was, he could feel the warmth of her aura tickle the memories of his youth.

Little by little, he saw the tide begin to turn. The goblins outnumbered the humans as always, but this time, the humans attacked almost as though they’d been trained, and he realized it was because of this girl. Somehow, she’d coalesced this rag-tag army into a perfectly-honed machine of destruction. The cavalry swung around the outer perimeter, cutting through the goblin ranks like talons through flesh. The ones who weren’t eviscerated turned and ran.

Seeing her soldiers fleeing, the goblin queen screamed in frustration and anger and swung her fell-beast toward the girl. Somehow, the ugly creature had realized the source of the humans’ new-found success and was headed straight toward the girl. She marshaled two of her generals with a flick of her claw, and they moved to flank the girl, whose back was turned, lost in a berzerker’s heat of battle.

He didn’t know what make him take wing, but before he could even draw breath, he was racing through the sky, begging the gods who had abandoned him long ago to speed his flight, get him to her on time. Without her, the humans stood no chance. Without her, the world would be a dimmer place.

He’d started so much further than the queen, as fast as he was, fear that he wouldn’t be fast enough choked him. He was so close when he saw the queen arch her back and hurtle her spear, armed with every last ounce of her fury, toward the girl. A hair’s breath later, the generals launched their swords. There was no time to decelerate. The girl turned, sensing the danger just as he hit her, arms and claws extended, wrapping his wings around hers, hoping his body would protect her from the impact. He felt the familiar fire of pain lance through his body as the spear struck his back, and the long-forgotten sense of relief that at least it hadn’t hit her.

They landed, rolling through the ice and snow, and when they finally came to a stop, the sounds of the battle were far behind them. The girl struggled wildly to her feet, scrabbling and running in panic. He tried to get up and assure her that he meant her no harm, but the pain was excruciating. He didn’t know he was still capable of feeling pain like that. She grabbed a tree branch and swung back toward him, ever the warrior, and he was filled with pride in this unknown girl. He met her eyes, and was surprised when hers widened. She dropped the stick.

"You saved me," she whispered. "You’re hurt."

She came toward him gingerly, one hand outstretched. He tried to tell her that he would be fine, that his immortality was just taking longer than usual this time but he was frozen in place. He sank to the ground in wonderment. It felt like…like he was dying.

She touched his shoulder, and ran a hand down his leathery wing, dropping to her knees next to him. He wanted to stop her, explain that he’d been beautiful once, a proud warrior who’d bowed to no man, but he would have followed her into battle. He would have stood beside her. He would have knelt before her when she was a queen, but his words were gone. All these years, he thought, the centuries and millenia behind him, and all it took was one selfless act to end this curse of life. Was this really the first selfless act of his life? It was unbearable to believe.

The sky grew dark as he lay in the snow. The girl’s hot tears were a benediction on his forehead, forgiveness at last. It was time. And at least her face, her beautiful face, would be the last thing he ever saw.

(via nerdymouse)

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