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
The Final Star
Fate was gone. She was a goddess, powerful enough to create worlds, yet I knew in my heart it was true. Her death shattered me, sending shockwaves through my soul. A crippling sense of loneliness hollow me out, like someone had torn away the bits that made me who I was and gave me purpose.
The church had stripped my title and status, but they were helpless against my Divine Calling. Heroes had intrinsic resistance and talents, a sort of confidence and charisma that inspired others to follow. And now that special divine blessing, an essential element of inner strength that sustained me through the darkness, was gone.
Aurle was dead, too, the most recent of those hurt because they chose to stand by my side: murdered by the monster standing before me, his arms crossed, glaring holes through me.
"Answer me," he growled. "Where did you get that staff?"