Pygmalion¡¯s Dream
A/N: Another angst from me¡¦ Dang, I keep on writing these! Well, they are a means of venting for me. Handy little thing, writing¡¦ I hope you enjoy this and as you can see, I am a mythology freak. Also, nothing belongs to me, all right? Good. Look at the notes at the end for further clarification for names you don¡¯t know. And here you go¡¦
*****
-and as his lips touched the cold marble, they softened, becoming warm flesh under his kiss. Startled, he broke free, finding that he found a girl in his arms, as alive as he. Her skin was the creamy white of the marble he had carved her from, but the kisses of roses touched her skin, making it ruddy with life. Her hair was spun gold, as her face was the rival of the goddess¡¯s who had brought her life¡¦
I close the book of mythology, sighing. This was a rather sweet myth, one of my particular favorites. My eyes glance to the portrait on the wall and my heart aches.
If only Aphrodite to come down to me, a wretched Pygmalion, and bring my Galatea to me. But I fear I dream for naught, for there are no gods or goddesses to grant the wishes of a lovelorn fool. Even as I pray, nothing hears me; nothing is there to listen to my desperate pleas. Poor wretch with no hope¡¦
I see my Galatea, fresh in my mind, the epiphany of perfection and beauty. Nothing mars her; nothing can stop her light from shining everywhere. She was made in the image of a goddess, but became a goddess of her own. Aphrodite cannot compare. Freyja withers away at the sight of her. Ishstar is but a jealous wench. Lakshmi is a wraith.
But all have one thing in common: I cannot touch them, be with them physically.
Why, why did she have to be taken away from me? I have her image but there is no soul to it, no sustenance. Are the goddesses angry? So angry they crushed the beautiful flower under their cruel feet?
I, a simple artist, aspire for a deity, one who willingly bound herself to me but was taken away. Just to be with her again, I would give anything. If I had a thousand worlds as my trinkets, I would so willingly give them away without a second thought.
Pygmalion was granted his wish, for cold, lifeless marble to come to life. In a way, I ask the same, but no one is here to answer it for me. A folly, one thinks, this obsession is for my Cecilia, who is long dead. But it is the only thing that keeps me alive today, this Pygmalion¡¯s dream...
***
Dark Magician: How sad¡¦
Celtic Guardian (or Elf Swordsman): It is but I don¡¯t feel too much pity for him. He had that blasted mermaid shoot me with her arrows. Stupid fish tail, she gloated about that one for days.
Dark Magician: Easy there, Elfy.
Me: (glares) No flirting or snuggling right now. This is meant to be angsty!
Both of them: (ignores me)
Me: Stupid muses¡¦
*Pygmalion was a sculptor on the island of Cyprus. He shunned all women and fell in love with a statue of a girl he himself had made. Aphrodite granted the statue life after his desperate prayers and they were able to live together happily. He had named the girl Galatea, which means ¡°milk,¡± because of her skin.
**Aphrodite, as you know, is the goddess of beauty in Greek mythology. Freyja is a goddess of love and beauty in Norse mythology. Lakshmi was a Hindu goddess who represented beauty. Ishtar was from Mesopotamia, a goddess of physical love and war, but known to be very beautiful. As you can see, Pegasus here is very poetic in his comparisons with such goddesses. It kind of goes along with ¡°Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.¡±