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
Hand of Fate
"Wind's Speed."
I muttered the name of the spell as I clasped Fable's head in my hands, imbuing him and the rest of the soldiers in the Nexus, with magic. He shifted restlessly as the mana flowed through him, and I slipped on his back, wincing as a painful jolt ran through the sunpurge. The heat trickled up my side as Fable kicked off the ground, but I held a cry back with gritted teeth. The Last Light Company had yet to fully exit the courtyard, and I didn't want them to worry.
But every stride of the great wolf sent a tingle of fire up my side. I'd been ignoring it since the battle began, but it was impossible to miss the rising heat. Places I hadn't hurt before were burning, the scar slowly itching up my side. It hadn't been noticeable at first, but as the battle dragged by hour after hour, Elinore's fears materialized. I'd done everything she'd warned me about, from physical exertion and battle to using sixth-circle arrays.