The Forsaken Hero
I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. My fingers were numb and cold, my arm aching where the needle pierced the vein. Something clattered onto the pavement, and I looked down to see the needle. It had slipped out of my hand. Nothingness swirled around me, bringing the first sense of peace I'd felt in my short, miserable life. There was no one to miss me, and no one I would miss. There's always someone else to beat or rape. The regulars would move on quickly. I died. Only...wasn't death supposed to be dark? And since when did 'nothingness' have so many gods? Discord: https://discord.gg/PX3xqJdZMY
A Moment of Peace
It didn't take long for me to lower my guard around Captain Bethiv and his soldiers. They were the Last Light Company, famous throughout the northern continent as a ruthless band of mercenaries who rarely failed a mission. At some point, they were permanently contracted by the crown as a special unit in their standing army.
The soldiers sat around their cookfires, sharpening weapons, swapping stories, or talking of home. I sat around their main fire, my knees tucked against my chest, eyes closed to partial slits. The night breeze was cool against my skin, playing with my hair and wafting with the raucous sounds of their camaraderie. Fall was growing late, with winter just around the corner, something far more apparent on the northern continent than the southern. I sighed wistfully, absently stroking my horn. It had nearly been a year since I awoke in a cage, although that time felt infinitely longer than the eighteen years I spent on Earth.