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
Celebratory Preparations
Our travels maintained a consistent schedule, much like the one we had followed during our week-long stay in High Valley. Fyren insisted on rigorous training every day, pushing our party to its limits. As Soltair and Trithe grew more coordinated, he began including my spells in the practice sessions, forcing me to react to random attacks and provide shields, walls, or general interference with my magic.
When we weren't traveling or training, I immersed myself in studying the spellbooks. Having already committed the first two, Regenerate and Nexus, to memory, I dedicated my focus to the third: a fifth-circle Fate Spell called Blade Ward. While Mirror Sphere could deflect magical attacks, Blade Ward specialized in countering physical ones. My goal was to combine the two spells to create a protective barrier against weapons, spells, and magical techniques.