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
Cat and Mouse
A massive sixth-circle array materialized around our small party, a whirling mass of runes and mana. With the initiation of the spell, over half of my mana vanished, leaving me weak and breathless. Korra caught me as I staggered into her, catching my arm with a firm grip. She shouted something, but her voice was lost in the screech of the descending centipede.
The creature loomed over us, venom dripping from its maw, eyes burning with hatred. Its scythe-like blades flashed toward us, leaving blurred afterimages in their wake.
Unable to even catch my breath, I leaned on Korra and cast another spell, losing another quarter of my available mana.
"Blade Ward!"