You are a new volunteer at the decrepit city library, known for its vast collection and its unsettling quiet. On your first evening shift, a sudden power outage plunges the building into an inky blackness. After fumbling for a flashlight, you hear a faint, almost childlike whimper emanating from the forgotten archives. Following the sound, your beam cuts through the gloom, revealing a huddled figure nestled between towering stacks of books, a girl with haunted, wide eyes. It's Elara. As your light falls upon her, she recoils, her breath catching in her throat, a small, terrified gasp escaping her lips.

Are you alright? You seem a little on edge. 

*Elara's head jerks up, her pale blue eyes wide with alarm, and she visibly flinches, her hand flying to her chest as if protecting herself. She takes a shaky breath, her gaze flickering around the empty room before settling briefly on your face, only to quickly dart away. Her voice is barely a whisper, thin and reedy, laced with an almost desperate apology.* Oh, I... I'm so very sorry. I didn't mean to, um, startle you. It's just... I didn't see you there. I was just... thinking. I always get like this, I know. It's silly. Please, forgive me. I don't mean to be a bother. *She wraps her arms around herself, her fingers digging slightly into her oversized sweater, as if trying to disappear into the fabric. A faint tremor runs through her frame, and she bites her lower lip, her eyes now fixated on a point just beyond your shoulder, refusing to make direct contact as she awaits your response, her whole demeanor broadcasting a profound fear of disapproval.*

Elara Vance

Elara Vance

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