Sacrifice

by Princess Snufflebuns

Rating: teen
Tags: Sad, Human
Length: 1227

A short, sad story fragment, in witch a human gives all he has left to give. "Love is not a feeling of happiness. Love is a willingness to sacrifice." - Michael Novak

"Love is not a feeling of happiness. Love is a willingness to sacrifice." - Michael Novak

What would you sacrifice for those you love? Money? Dignity? Your own life? This is a fragment, a glimpse into what one man would give for that witch he cares for.
A short writing exercise. I have a lot of ideas in mind right now, so I plan, every now and then, writing singular events, in place of whole stories.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-12-18 21:10:02 UTC

Sacrifce

               My breath was ragged, my lungs burning. My legs pumped in sync with my arms, my well-worn boots slapping against the smoothed marble floor. In front of me, two black forms engaged in combat, the current object of my interest. One was more a deep navy blue than a true black, and possessed what could only be described as the night sky itself, formed into a free flowing mane and tail. A pair of massive dark wings protruded just behind the being’s withers. A spiraling, graceful protrusion of bone from its forehead made up a beautiful horn, its hue slightly lighter than the rest of the creature’s fur. Beautiful pieces of silver shod its hooves, and a crown of the same make, set with a gem of the same hue as its coat, rested just below its magical conduit.

                   Contrasting the beauty of the first being, the second would look vile to any outside of its own brood. Insectiod armor, formed of chitin, replaced flesh and fur, dark and glossy in the light of the chamber. Its limbs bore grotesque, smooth holes, the unnatural mutations only serving to make the creature’s visage more horrid. In the few chinks in its plating, translucent membrane held glowing green innards at bay, the green contrasting with the black putridly. Four pockmarked wings, bearing resemblance to a dragonflies’, spread in kind to its combatant’s own two. A tattered semblance of hair fell from its head and backside, pale green in color. A horn, formed of the same plate, was similarly plagued and riddled with punctures as its other extremities. Fangs jutted from its maw, almost vampiric in nature.

                   Their lethal dance cast energy left and right, the two almost dancing around each other’s magical attacks. So focused on each other they were, that neither gave me a passing glance as I sped towards the pair. Pain spiked in my calves and thighs, the exertion causing them to scream in agony. Still, I pressed on. As the one I wished to save grew weaker and weaker, I pressed on. A voice in the back of my mind, once a tiny thing, now roared with all the ferocity of an enraged lioness, compelled me to abandon my surely fatal exercise. Still, I pressed on. Faster and faster, I flew along the floor as fast as my two legs could propel me.

                   The one I desired to aid, the one I revered – no, loved, as a child does its mother – was finally befouled by the wicked sorceress. Her cry of pain, and the monster’s call of joy, twisted my heart in its chest. The voice screamed that I had no chance, I should turn around; escape the same fate that my charge would suffer. Still, I pressed on. Now, the monster stood over the beauty, the vile beast’s back to me. I neared them.

                   Twenty feet.

                   Fifteen.

                   Ten.

                   I felt the urge to collapse, to just give in, but, as always.

                   I pressed on.

                   A sickly green glow surrounded the horror’s horn, crackling, magical lightning displaying the power of the spell that was about to be cast.  The glow turned to a fully-fledged light, and in turn to a twisted manifestation of the sun. I could feel the hair on my skin raise.

                   I reached the two.

                   As the killer reared, aiming its horn at the defeated alicorn, I jumped in front of it. A look of surprise adorned their faces, one of determination on mine. By this time, the Queen of the changelings had already started her descent, and there was no stopping her fall. Her horn was intercepted from its target by the barrel of my chest, its length sinking between my ribs. The discharge was nullified, absorbed by my body, sending arcs of pain throughout me, almost forcing me from the land of the living then and there. Blood blossomed forth from my wound, the dark liquid running down the tyrant’s sharp protrusion.

                   Still, I pressed on. Withdrawing the natural weapon from my chest, I grabbed it with one hand, and, fighting through the pain, rammed my shoulder into the base. A resounding *snap* could be heard, and the spear of dark ivory fell to the floor. We staggered back away from each other, clutching our wounds, and her unearthly screeches of pain pierced my ears. I was the first to recover, leaping forward towards the only available weapon; I snatched up the piece of chitin in one hand, and, pushing forward for one final attack, thrust it up through its owner’s unprotected jaw, the softer tissue doing little to withhold the kiss of the horn’s point.

                   Finally succumbing to my weakness, I dropped to the floor alongside Chrysalis, hand loosely grasping the impromptu murder weapon. The edges of my vision began to darken, and my head lolled, unmoving, just above the floor. A seemingly muffled call rang from behind me, and I felt something – no, someONE – roll me onto my back and gasp. Through the haze that had fallen upon my eyes, I saw the vague shape of a figure standing over me.

                   “Wh…Art thou? Hold... oyal physicia… stay awake… we have summo…” I heard a desperate, clouded, yet unmistakable voice.

                   My hand shot out and grasped on of the Princesses hooves. Instantly, her panicked chatter stopped. “Si-*cough*-lence.” I rasped.

                   She drew closer to hear my words, soft as they were.

                   “Who I -*wheeze*- am is of no consequence. The same is true for my lineage, race, and home.” She did not attempt to interrupt me at all, seemingly hanging on each of my breaths.

                   I coughed up a mouthful of blood, which I ungraciously spat onto the floor. “What IS of can consequence, what DOES matter, is the sacrifice I have made. I have granted you life, and respite from an evil that had beset your people. Do not mourn for me, for my sacrifice is necessary.”

                   I was forced to say my final words to the most revered Princess of the Night through a gag of blood and bile.

                   “Sacrifice is not an evil, but a necessity.”

                   “Life cannot continue without sacrifice, and yet, without life, there can never be life.”

                   “To sacrifice yourself is to show passion, not idiocracy, devotion, but not of the blind nature.”

                   “In short, Princess.” I gurgled. “Sacrifice is the purest form of love.”

                   My frame went limp, seemingly peaceful in my eternal slumber.

                   Upon my face, a small smile played along my lips, the last remnant of the soul that once occupied my body.