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
Night Visions
I floated through the darkness of sleep for barely a second before my mana thrummed within my soul, a thousand scathing needles seeking escape. Given time, its relentless throb would erode my resistance and I would be swept away into a vision, but this time, instead of fighting it, I relaxed and allowed it to flow. The surge that followed nearly jolted me awake, bubbling up until it spilled out of my soul, filling my entire body with suffocating warmth.
Bright ribbons of light materialized around me, rapidly weaving together in a tapestry of color and sound. Within the space of a single breath, spacious walls rose around me, covered in banners and murals depicting great battles and stone-eyed generals. A heavy stone table dominated the center of the floor, stained dark and inlaid with gold and some sort of multi-faceted gems. The precious stones blazed with mana, projecting a life-like, topographical illusion of a wide swath of land across the surface of the table.