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 Price of my Tears
Luke swept through the keep like a summer storm, moving with cold, swift fury. His aura stretched out in long, black tendrils, grasping at everything and plunging the keep into an icy chill. The shadowy staff in his hand pulsed with a malevolent violet light.
I stumbled after him, tears streaming down my face, drawn in his wake like a leaf caught in a whirlwind. A morbid curiosity, a desire to see this through, kept my feet moving. I had to know what was happening, if Luke truly was different from Soltair.
Luke slowed as we approached the keep gates, turning back to face me. Lost in my thoughts, I nearly bumped into him. He quickly steadied me with a hand on my shoulder, and I quickly apologized, lowering my head and wiping away my tears.