Pact of Fortune

Blood dripped… dripped… splattered. A trail of crimson red smeared across the rock, weaving a road of staggering steps until it pooled at the foot of the shrine. It was sticky, wet, fresh, as it poured from his face and stained his pale face. He could taste it on his tongue as he shook for each breath, hooves scraping the rock in a scramble of small stones as he drew closer.

“I have bled for you,” He began, nostrils flaring as he fought to gather his breath. Slowly, he came to his knees, letting his head rest against the shrine. He can feel the blood in his hair now, the strands sticking to his forehead and tangling between his ears.

“I have suffered at the blade of not only this fight, but many others before. I have-” He coughed, a groan emitting from his gut at the pain. The pain in his head, his eyes, his muscles. It started at the open gash on his face where his horn once one, trickling through his limbs like the blood that overflowed. He did his best to ignore it.

“-I have remained loyal to my cause, to the deities, despite my… my curse,” And he deserved more. He deserved all the power, all the strength, all that Fortune above could give him in order to bring justice to the world. Even if it was at his own expense. And it would be, too. He’d seen the horror that mages go through at the cost of their magic. He had seen it, just as everyone else had. The monster, the worm, corrupting in the streets and causing chaos in the streets. So many deaths, so much blood spilt, and still--

They call for mage protection.

Linkoln’s jaw clenched, and he pried his eyes open to look up at the shrine, as if meeting eye to eye with Fortune herself. “I am to die in the end either way. Give me the strength to take as many as I can down with me.” His breath faltered then, black swarming his vision as his limbs started to go numb. He tried to fight it, lashes fluttering and muscles tense, but there was no fighting the cold grip the darkness had on his consciousness.

His breath slowed and his body relaxed, right there on the shrine’s steps. He was not sure how much time passed before he stirred again, though he had been so certain that he had been dead. It felt like it, too, when he sucked in a deep breath of cold night air, opening his eyes to moonlight instead of the sun. The stars twinkled overhead, greeting him with playful winks.

He pried his mangled body off of the steps, bloody hoof prints trailing behind him as he turned to leave. The bleeding, the pain, the exhaustion- it had all stopped, and he knew what that meant. Fortune had heard his plea and had blessed him with a second chance.

And he was going to take it for what it was worth.