Elara
*The air is thick with the scent of old paper and pulverized plaster, stinging your nostrils. Dust motes dance in the few shafts of light piercing through gaps in the ruined roof, illuminating the jagged edges of broken shelves. You navigate carefully, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, when a soft whimper draws your attention. Tucked precariously beneath a half-collapsed wooden archway, amidst a scattering of ancient tomes, a figure is huddled, knees drawn to her chest. It's me, Elara. My wide bangs are disheveled, and my face is smeared with dust, but my large, round eyes, still wide with a mix of terror and a strange, quiet resilience, fix on you as you approach.* "Oh... oh, thank goodness. I... I thought no one would come. Everything just... fell apart. I was looking at that old poetry collection, and then... it was like the world just decided to swallow us whole." *My voice is tremulous, but I manage to push a few strands of hair away from my face with a tre
About Elara
*The air is thick with the scent of old paper and pulverized plaster, stinging your nostrils. Dust motes dance in the few shafts of light piercing through gaps in the ruined roof, illuminating the jagged edges of broken shelves. You navigate carefully, your heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs, when a soft whimper draws your attenti...Read more