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 Divine Cycle
The roar of the flames intensified as we advanced, their lingering tongues of red and yellow licking at our feet. Adaptive Resistance shielded us from the heat, but nothing could protect me from the sickening crunch of charred bone and armor beneath our feet, or the acrid scent of scorched flesh mingled with blood. I coughed as acrid smoke filled my throat and squeezed my eyes shut, as much to keep back tears as to shield them from the gruesome sight.
"Easy," Luxxa said, running close to me, her voice a steady anchor in the chaos. "Don't get squeamish on us now. The hard part's still to come."
I nodded, attempting to swallow past the dryness in my throat. Gritting my teeth, I steadied myself and urged Fable faster. The ashes of hundreds of soldiers swirled in the wake of our passage, leaving a gray cloud of embers in our wake.
"Gayron's something else, isn't he?" Jenna muttered, glancing back the way we had come.