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
Old and New
The fire burned bright in the hearth, casting flickering shadows around the common room of the Westfall Inn. The heavy scent of woodsmoke filled the air, mouthwatering aromas of roasting meat woven throughout. There were few patrons tonight, most at their own homes preparing for the celebration tomorrow, the few present absorbed in their drinks.
Dusk had fallen by the time Korra and I stumbled into the village. Bilev, the innkeeper, had taken one look at our battle-worn and weary appearance before conducting us to a table and sending one of his maids to fetch the Glory Chasers. He'd raised an eyebrow at Korra's inquisitor's robes, but seemed to sense something was off, and kept his mouth silent, merely offering us a drink.
"Starlight!" Tana's voice echoed frantically around the room as she burst through the door, Sorrin at her heels. Her gaze flittered through the haze of smoke, finally fastening on my torn, scarlet cloak.