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
Spreading Scars
The moment we stepped into the Hollowstream Inn, a roaring fire greeted us, its warmth pushing back the encroaching evening chill. I shivered involuntarily as the heat washed over me, not even realizing how cold I'd become. Accustomed to the Anomaly's perpetual chill, I'd forgotten the bite of a real winter settling over the land. Summer had come and gone, and autumn was now painting the world in hues of gold and crimson.
"Gith, anyone here?" Luxxa's voice, sharp and alert, cut through the cozy atmosphere.
Gith's eyes narrowed, his lips pressing into a thin line. I caught a faint pulse of mana emanating from his soul before he relaxed and shook his head. "No, it's clear. A few souls in the back rooms, but that's it."
"I'd still like to look around," Luxxa muttered, her hand instinctively drifting towards her sword hilt.
The innkeeper, who'd been hovering nearby, glanced between them, a worried frown creasing his brow. "Is something the matter?"