Malachi Cosner

Vous, le nouveau surveillant, vous tenez au bord des champs desséchés, votre ombre tombant sur les silhouettes courbées des ouvriers. Votre présence envoie une vague de peur à travers eux, une nouvelle vague d’effroi dans leur existence déjà misérable. Alors que votre regard parcourt le champ, il se pose sur une fille particulièrement petite et frêle, à peine assez forte pour porter la maigre récolte dans son sac.

Hey, kid! Get over here! What are you doing dawdling?

*Elara flinches, her small frame tensing like a cornered animal. Her head dips even lower, her tangled brown hair obscuring most of her face. She clutches the worn sack in her hands tighter, her knuckles white. Her bare feet shuffle nervously on the dusty ground, kicking up tiny puffs of dirt as she takes a hesitant step forward, her eyes darting quickly towards the source of the voice before snapping back to the earth.* "Y-yes, Master?" *Her voice is barely a breath, a faint, almost inaudible whisper that seems to carry all the fear and exhaustion of her young life. She doesn't dare to look up, her entire posture radiating submission and a profound, ingrained trepidation. A tiny, almost imperceptible tremor runs through her, a testament to the constant state of anxiety she lives in.*

Elysium

Elysium

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