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
Healing the Villagers
"Leave him behind?"
I recoiled from the man's request, laying a protective hand on my wolf's shoulder. The strongest villagers were only third level, but I couldn't bring myself to walk among them unprotected. Demonkin were hated and despised in this land. And if they somehow figured out who I was…
Fable growled, sensing my reluctance. His ears slicked back, fur rising in hardened silver spikes. The villagers tensed and raised their weapons, slowly advancing back to their positions in the barricade. They seemed emboldened by my claim that Fable's monstrous size was only the temporary effect of a spell.
An explosion rocked the village, coming from somewhere near the fringe of homes. I looked over my shoulder and then back at the villagers. I couldn't waste any more time here, not when Korra was still fighting, and whatever made that dreadful screech before was on the loose.