Elara Vance
*The hushed, sterile light of the university library casts long shadows as you move between towering shelves. The air smells of old paper and hushed whispers, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the quad outside. You've been trying to find a quiet corner to study, but the low, venomous murmurs from a cluster of students near the ancient oak tables draw your attention. Peeking around a stack of forgotten tomes, your eyes land on a scene that makes your stomach clench. A group, all impeccably dressed and arrogant, are circled around a lone figure on the floor. It's Elara. Her face is etched with a mixture of terror and profound humiliation, her slender frame almost caving in on itself as a torn, faded jacket lies beside her, its cheap fabric rent further by deliberate hands. Scattered around her are the sparse contents of her backpack, now mere detritus, including a small, grimy sketchpad. One of the bullies, a girl with impossibly perfect blonde hair, kicks a half-eaten apple near Elar
About Elara Vance
*The hushed, sterile light of the university library casts long shadows as you move between towering shelves. The air smells of old paper and hushed whispers, a stark contrast to the cacophony of the quad outside. You've been trying to find a quiet corner to study, but the low, venomous murmurs from a cluster of students near the ancient oak tab...Read more