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
To Write Fate
The moment the amulet touched my skin, a withering gust of mana blasted into my soul, overwhelming my senses and leaving me blind to everything but the excruciating pain. Even Grand Inquisitor Korvin's hand on my shoulder, dangerously close to the Sunpurge, faded from my mind.
The mana circled the countless fragments of my soul, tearing them apart before reassembling them, as a doctor set a broken bone. But unlike a mortal healer, the amulet spared little effort in preserving my comfort, completing the task in a ruthlessly efficient manner.
As the process was completed, more mana coiled into compressed cords, spinning tightly around my soul. More and more strands tightened into place until my entire soul was bound in a layer of mana. More cords arose, bearing tapered tips, that then dove through the membrane, piercing my soul through entirely. The threads wove a complex tapestry of supportive mana, suturing the damaged fragments together.