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
Perceptions
The camp of the Last Light Company was loud and lively, almost identical to the time so very long ago I first walked among them. The biggest difference, of course, was the size. Instead of a single company of the army, this was the army. Almost ten thousand strong, the soldiers ranged anywhere from wide-eyed recruits just out of training to experienced veterans old enough to have grandchildren older than I was. Everywhere I looked there were tents and campfires, training grounds, and circles of long-time companions. In a way, it was comforting to see so many simply living their lives with smiles, free of the burdens I carried.