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
Preparing for the Duel
"I leave for one hour, and this is what happens?"
I hung my head, helpless before Soltair's exasperated question. "It's not like you being there makes it any better," I muttered. It used to, but I had too many memories of him standing idly by.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Fine, but you'd better win. I won't have you bringing shame to our party, you hear? The City Lord and his councilors are already skeptical enough that we let a dragon slip away."
I dipped my head submissively, grateful he didn't accidentally punish me again. News of the duel had through the campus like wildfire, and Soltair asked us about it the instant we arrived at our lodgings within the Central Citadel.
Trithe sat on the couch beside Soltair, snuggling into his embrace. "I've heard of this Prince Eric. The Fire Kingdom is well known for their, well, use of Fire Magic."