Finally, Griffin had won.
His skin was a map of scars, his armour was stained black with blood, and his courage hung by the thinnest thread. Forever more would the screams of his king ring in his ears, and forever more would his eyes be dark with flashbacks of war.
But that didn't matter.
Because now, the monster that had killed his father, enslaved his kingdom, and slaughtered innocent children for sport cowered before him with fear in his eyes. And Griffin, who had struggled up the slopes of hell to get to this point, had his sword raised in victory.
There will be feasts tonight, he thought longingly.The kingdom would laugh once again, and he would get a relaxing break from the crazy adventure he had been thrust into.
A plea of mercy was uttered from the beast before Griffin, and he quickly returned his attention to the said villain. Taking a deep breath, he hefted his sword higher, and let loose a mighty battle cry.
It echoed over the cold mountains as Griffin ran forward. His face was a mask of proud determination, and his feet thudded sure against the snow as if he knew the path ahead by heart. He had won, he had won, he had won! His name would be woven into legend and song. Naida -he would see her again, too!- carried his unborn child that would pass his honor into the next generation. The crown of Bexouvia would be placed upon his head, where it rightfully belonged.
His sword slashed through the air, arking towards it's target, when suddenly...
An arrow whistled through the air and sunk deep into Griffin's back. Pain erupted throughout his body, and darkness slithered around the corners of his vision. Griffin fell to his knees before his greatest enemy.
He tried to stand, tried to fight, but two more arrows plunged into his body.
The shadows quadrupled in size.
Blood trickled down his back in sync with the tears of agony on his cheeks. Air lodged in his throat, and a numbness spread through his fingers and toes. Through a haze of pain, Griffin could make of a blurry silouette of his once helpless foe, laughing mercificully.
He was holding Griffin's sword.
Anger swelled up inside of him, and Griffin swatted feebly at the weapon in front of him.
It was no use.
His own sword plunged down, into his heart, and Griffin's last thought raced through his pounding head.
"Are you kidding me? I was this close..."
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Failures
De Todo~in which i give greek tragedies a run for their money. euripides, i'm coming for your brand.~ a.k.a. i set up a common plot and then ruin the happy ending!!!!
