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
Mirror Sphere
The Gardens and Training Fields were locked up with tourists and festivalgoers, with hardly space for a first-circle spell, much less something as dramatic as a fifth. At Thron's recommendation, I slipped through the passages to the Arena, high in the mountains overlooking the Divine Throne.
As the platform rose, I closed my eyes, lost in the memories of the duel. I was no longer the same girl from a few weeks ago, but the horrors of the duel were ingrained in my mind. The War Hero's merciless promise from the banquet rang in my ears, and I clasped my hands together, grateful I had evaded participating in the tournament.
When at last the magical lift reached the arena floor, I looked around, blinking in the morning sun. The stands, which had been filled with tens of thousands of people, were now abandoned. A lonely breeze wound its way through the stone aisles, curling over the inner walls and ruffling my hair.