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
In the Camp of the Last Light Company
The next week passed in a blur, with my waking moments far and in between. Every day or so, someone would gently shake me awake, taking great care not to jostle my wounds. It took all the strength I had to accept a few spoonfuls of hot broth before my eyes closed again and I slumped back to the bed. My eyes were too heavy to open, leaving those who ministered to me a mystery, but I was able to recognize Korra's tender touch much of the time.
Every time I awoke brought me more strength and less pain. Just like last time, being inflicted with Sunpurge caused catastrophic damage to my soul, greatly reducing my natural healing and regeneration, but by the end of the sixth day, the throbbing had fallen to a dull ache. It was no worse than the wound on my shoulder, and likely wouldn't be getting any better from there.