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
The Apostles
Fyren's hands tightened into fists at her insults. "You have no say in this matter, Ixtra, and we will remain regardless of your wishes. Furthermore, her name is Xivyah, and she is no more tainted than your precious apostles."
The curse demon's lips curled in a sneer. "I obey them at the command of my Emperor and for no other reason. They, along with this… Xiviyah belongs with the slaves in the Tainted's camp."
The other tainted she was referring to were the demonkin and beastkin accompanying the army. They were crude and bloodthirsty. Did she believe I was no different from them?
Looking into her eyes confirmed that fear and so much more. I flinched as she met my eyes, and her sneer widened into a mocking grin.
"Perhaps I was too hasty to block your path, Lord of Ash."
"Then move," he said, stone-faced.