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 Realm Reborn
"Why did he have to leave?" I whined, the question echoing for the tenth time that night.
"He only said it was important, remember?" R'lissea's response remained patient, though a slight strain in her voice betrayed her growing weariness with my incessant questioning. "It's best to let him handle it and ask when he returns."
Fyren had departed an hour ago, vanishing into the twilight after exchanging a few final words. I had risen to embrace him, pleading once more for his swift return, before collapsing beside R'lissea again. Elise already occupied the coveted spot against his warm, furry stomach, so we snuggled together in front of the fire, our backs pressed against his flank.
"It'll be fine, Xiviyah; there's no need to worry," Luke said, his gaze steady and unwavering. He hadn't looked away from me once, and it was starting to warm my cheeks. "Even with Fyren gone, nothing has changed. I won't allow anyone – god, mortal, or demon – to attack you."