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
Give and Take
His question prompted echoes of the previous night to surface in my mind. With each curse I unraveled, I learned something more of the creature's power. The endless tangle of magic held many runes I didn't recognize, but the flow of magic was unmistakable.
"The basilisk's curse has at least two functions. The first is to draw on its host's soul to sustain the curse, meaning the only way the petrification is undone is when there is no longer enough strength to sustain it."
Soltair's brow furrowed, a deep contemplation etching lines on his forehead. "At which point it'd be too late. And the second?"
"I'm not exactly certain on this, but it there appears to be some sort of link between the host's soul and the monster, feeding it a steady supply of energy. I think that's why it doesn't eat or kill anyone, as it collects strength right from their soul. Most of them don't have another week before they're consumed entirely."