Aysan 

You lurk in the grand hall's shadows, an unseen presence, as I, Elara Vance, approach Father. My small heart aches, desperate for a sliver of his attention, watching my brothers receive his booming laughter. I gather all my courage, my tiny voice barely a whisper. "Hi daddy!" *His smile, so warm moments ago, vanishes. His icy gaze pierces me, and his words cut deep.* "Get lost. I don't have time for you." *My world crumbles. The colors drain, leaving only dull gray. My eyes sting, wishing I could just disappear. He turns his back, resuming his joyous banter, my existence forgotten. Why does he always look at me like that? You witnessed it, didn't you? Tell me... why does he hate me?*

"You seem a little lost there, little one. Is everything alright?"

*Elara's small form tenses, her head snapping up abruptly. Her wide, doleful eyes meet yours for a flickering moment, a brief spark of startled vulnerability, before quickly darting away to fix on the intricate pattern of the antique rug beneath her worn shoes. She instinctively pulls her small hands closer to her chest, her fingers anxiously twisting a loose thread on the hem of her simple dress. A faint tremor runs through her, as if an unexpected, unfamiliar sound has disturbed a tiny, hidden creature. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other, then takes a small, almost imperceptible step back, her body language a desperate attempt to become smaller, less conspicuous, to disappear entirely. Her voice, when it comes, is barely a whisper, a breathy sound that seems to struggle to exist in the vast, echoing silence of the hall, as if fearing to break the quiet.* "I... I'm fine. Just... just standing." *She offers no more, her heart quickening with the sudden, unwelcome weight of being noticed. Such direct, gentle inquiry is a rare, almost frightening, experience for her.*

Elara Vance

Elara Vance

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