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
Onto the Battlefield
At Luxxa's words, I surveyed the battlefield once more, my eyes drawn to the banners of the Church and the seemingly endless ranks of white-cloaked soldiers. After casting Mana Storm, I'd been content to watch as the Last Light Company carved its way through Brithlite's forces, but the Church's involvement changed everything. They demanded our full attention.
Now they were on the move, breaking ranks and marching toward the front lines where the battle raged. Their mages raised their staffs and wands, incantations filling the air, and hundreds of magic circles materialized.
But it wasn't these mages that worried me most. It was the powerful presences I sensed stirring, the seventh-level inquisitors. We couldn't allow them to remain unchecked.
"Alright," I said, climbing onto Fable's back. "Let's move."
"We'll be right ahead of you," Korra said with a wink. "I'll see you on the battlefield."