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
Morning Lesson
Tana tossed her hair over her shoulder, a smile on her lips. "The correct way? And what would you know about that?"
I ignored her skepticism and held out my hand. My staff appeared in a flash of stars, and she sat up, suddenly realizing I was serious.
"Starlight, what are you…?"
Without bothering to respond, I seized my mana and began to cast. Over the past few days, my mana had increased enough to cast roughly four first-circle spells-still far from enough for an array. But with the staff's help, it should be enough.
The array I cast was the first of its kind, something I'd been working on before I was sold to Lord Byron. The large-scale battles in the Gate had been an unwelcome wake-up call to the nature of war, and the limited influence I could exert on an entire battlefield. So many soldiers had died before I could save them, something that haunted me the day.
"Life Mist," I whispered.