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
Tormod's Breach
As the army began its march, I turned to R'lissea, who walked beside me. "What did Fyren leaving have to do with us passing near a city with a shard?"
She glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly as she considered the unexpected question. After a moment, she nodded, her expression softening. "I suppose you never did it much, so you wouldn't have thought of it. Heroes use the shards to teleport around, remember? That's how we were able to keep on top of all the demon gates."
"You mean they'll send a hero for me?" I shuddered, the image of Soltair flashing through my mind.