Dweia

The smell of blood invaded my nostrils. I watched helplessly as the woman standing over me raised her sword. I was completely drained, I had no mana left, no items, nothing. As the crimson tendrils held me down by my arms and legs, all I could do was wait for my death. 

As the sword drew near, I felt the last bit of courage I had disappear. I was going to die. Alone. In this god forsaken place filled with evil. And for what? To protect those ‘friends’? The same people who mocked me, took advantage of, and used me?

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I was here only because of my own greed. Because I wanted to be useful to someone. Because I wanted to that group to need me. To value me. To have a reason to keep me around. How naïve I was, thinking that power would grant those wishes. All it did was help build a wall between me and everyone else. 

The sword approached. I saw the purple light reflect off the sword’s blade. After everything I went through, I hadn’t expected my death to be by the hands of another player. I saw her smile, but this time I didn’t think it was beautiful. It was an ugly smile because it was genuine. She was enjoying watching me die. She was enjoying killing me. 

The sword struck my chest and pierced my heart. I let out a scream of pain and agony. The pain was so real, all of this was so real. It shouldn’t be, but it was. What should have been a simple game had become my new reality – all of our new reality. A reality filled with magic, war, blood, and death. 
My vision darkened as the pain slowly faded. I felt the last of my vitality leave my body. It felt cold. I wondered to myself, when would I stop being? When would my thoughts disappear?

Soon, I saw those words I feared for all this time appear before me. “DEATH”, in the pale blue font the game always used. They remained suspended in the air for several seconds. It was over. After a long time of fighting, grinding, and exploring, it was finally over. I had died. This was the end of my story.

Suddenly, words before me shifted and changed into something different. I took a shallow breath as I heard a faint heartbeat.

* * *

Cover art by me

* * *

We have a discord! Come say hi, chat with me and receive updates on status of my novels!
https://discord.gg/2EFthae7XR

* * *

This story is my submission for the 2020 Webnovel Spirity Awards.

The Soul Keeper

Vixia seemed conflicted. Her expression showed a host of emotions. She was worried about Delthur, clearly upset, even angry about something and she also seemed rather desperate. This wasn't a look fitting for her. Despite being enemies, I disliked seeing her like this.

"But where could his soul have gone?" She finally asked, turning her gaze on the old woman. "It should have been here – he was buried here, wasn't he?"

I furrowed my brows. Whose grave was this? Who lay in that sarcophagus?

"Yes, but it no longer is." The old woman said, her thin fingers gently stroking the sarcophagus' surface. "Perhaps you should speak to the Lord," She paused and cleared her throat. She didn't seem like she had much time left in this world. "He knows more than I do."

Vixia shook her head. "No, I need to do this on my own – I can't cause him more pain." She clenched her fists. "Please, tell me what you know."

The Tomb of the Keeper of Souls