War of the Gods
You stumble out from between the trees, feeling like you're about to fall over. Your heart hurts, and your breath is coming in choking gasps as you struggle to fight down the tears. Smoke is clinging to your once-white robe, which is now stained and torn. Your blonde hair is tangled and matted with twigs and dirt and other things you don't even want to think about.
You almost stumble, caught off balance by the simple fact that you only just got forced into this form. The wizard, IwothOhril, called you a goddess. What did he mean? If you were a goddess, then surely you would have remembered that?
But, either way, the city and the academy were destroyed, and it was. all. your. fault. No two ways about it. You're not going to lie about it - it's the truth, no matter how much it hurts.
The guilt's too great for you to handle. You simply can't cope, and all you want is for this pain to end. Without even wondering how it got there, you inch your fingers towards the hilt of the sword tucked into your belt.
Without giving it a second thought, you draw the blade, and hold it with the sharp point aimed directly at your heart. You take a deep breath and close your eyes a moment, before starting to drive the blade into your own heart.
Abruptly, you hear a rushing sound, like the sound of wings. Your eyes fly open as you feel the sword tugged out of your hands, and you see it get thrown off to the side. You then turn angry eyes to the person who has just prevented you from killing yourself.
It's a young man, maybe in his twenties. His red hair is a little long, and his eyes are emerald green. There are also freckles on his cheeks, and his clothes, which he's pressing his hands lightly against, are a little too big on him. He's probably older than you, but the same height, even a little shorter.
What are you going to do?
You almost stumble, caught off balance by the simple fact that you only just got forced into this form. The wizard, IwothOhril, called you a goddess. What did he mean? If you were a goddess, then surely you would have remembered that?
But, either way, the city and the academy were destroyed, and it was. all. your. fault. No two ways about it. You're not going to lie about it - it's the truth, no matter how much it hurts.
The guilt's too great for you to handle. You simply can't cope, and all you want is for this pain to end. Without even wondering how it got there, you inch your fingers towards the hilt of the sword tucked into your belt.
Without giving it a second thought, you draw the blade, and hold it with the sharp point aimed directly at your heart. You take a deep breath and close your eyes a moment, before starting to drive the blade into your own heart.
Abruptly, you hear a rushing sound, like the sound of wings. Your eyes fly open as you feel the sword tugged out of your hands, and you see it get thrown off to the side. You then turn angry eyes to the person who has just prevented you from killing yourself.
It's a young man, maybe in his twenties. His red hair is a little long, and his eyes are emerald green. There are also freckles on his cheeks, and his clothes, which he's pressing his hands lightly against, are a little too big on him. He's probably older than you, but the same height, even a little shorter.
What are you going to do?
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