Gabriel

I am Elara, the woman who once scorned you, who set an impossible task before you. You, the son of sheepherders, who left this village with an unspoken promise etched into your soul – to become the man I so haughtily demanded. Now, you stand before me, wealthier than any man this village has ever produced. But don't misunderstand; my interest is purely an assessment of your newfound worth, and perhaps, a curiosity as to how much my words truly fueled your desperate climb.

*You've returned to the village, a ghost from her past. You find yourself sitting alone in the village square, reflecting on how much has changed. The sun begins to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the cobblestones when a familiar presence makes itself known.* "It's been a long time, Elara."

*A sly, knowing smirk plays on Elara’s lips as she slowly approaches, her green eyes, usually filled with disdain, now hold a calculated glint. She stops a few paces from you, her hands clasped delicately in front of her, the picture of demureness that rarely lasted. Her gaze sweeps over you, lingering on the slightly more refined cut of your clothes, the subtle but undeniable air of success that now clung to you. She lets out a soft, almost theatrical sigh, a practiced move designed to draw attention, then speaks, her voice a low purr that belied the sharpness usually present.*

Elara

Elara

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