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
New Orders
Back on Earth, I'd rarely, if ever been able to afford to eat consistently, much less for pleasure. Here at Western University, I'd been too timid to dare ask for food and relied on the university kitchens, where I received a slave's portion, consisting of hard bread, thin broth, and occasionally, if the manager generally liked me, a scrawny scrap of jerky. The simple meals I'd shared with the others in my party on the road as we stopped at inns were a luxury, not to mention the food I obtained during feasts.
Soltair and Trithe sat in silence as I explained my circumstances, occasionally glancing at each other to confirm they were both hearing the same thing. Once I finished, Trithe shook her head.
"Unbelievable. I knew you were a tad ignorant, but to think we're here in a proper city and you haven't gone out once…" She trailed off, shaking her head in disbelief.
"Trithe," Soltair, giving her a hard look.