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
Leaving Westfall Village
Ror and Sari watched with wide, excited eyes as I carefully wove two magic circles. It wasn't an array this time, but a legitimate second-circle spell. My soul trembled with the strain of supporting the spell, but my mana held out until the circles flashed and the spell resolved.
A small dot of distorted air appeared above my cupped hands. A moment later, it expanded rapidly, swelling to envelop the small, secluded clearing. The rustle of the wind in the trees and the cheerful songs of the birds vanished. Even the sound of my own heart stilled, the noise swallowed up by the wavering distortion in the air. Sari clapped, staring gleefully at her hands which made no noise. Ror leaped to his feet, ears twitching in uncertainty, his mouth working soundlessly.
Snapping my fingers, I dismissed the spell. The sound distortion vanished and noise returned to our ears. The two foxkin children both began talking at once, their voices loud and startling after the utter silence.