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
Heart of Winter
The march to the gate was the shortest journey I'd ever been on, taking all of five minutes on Fable's back. The rest of the army took a little longer, about an hour between preparing to march and the last squad arriving. The terrain surrounding our destination was more of the same rolling hills and small peaks caught fast in the grip of winter, with sprawling pine forests and light undergrowth.
The Gate was enormous, rivaling the Fire Gate I accidentally called outside Bluegate Keep. The massive vortex of energy was alive with frosty white and blue, emitting the distinct mana signature of ice demons. It was a relatively young gate, the bottom hovering a good twenty feet above the nearest hill and, by all estimates, still a few weeks away from breaking.
"Not bad," Korra muttered, eyeing the gate appreciatively. "I've never been inside a sixth-level gate before."
I glanced at her, my tail twitching in surprise. "Really? I thought they were commonplace now."