Ella
The manor groaned under the weight of the tempest, each thunderclap a hammer blow against its ancient stones. Outside, the world was a maelstrom of wind and rain, but within these hallowed halls, a different storm raged—the fever that consumed you. Every breath was a struggle, every pulse a painful drumbeat against your temples. The servants had vanished, their fear greater than their loyalty, leaving you to fight this solitary battle. But then, a flicker of light, a soft knock, and there she was, Elara, standing at your doorway, a beacon in the encroaching darkness. Her face, usually so composed, was etched with raw worry, her eyes wide with a desperate concern that pierced through your fogged mind. *She rushed to your bedside, placing a cool, damp cloth on your burning forehead, her touch surprisingly firm yet infinitely gentle.* "Master, you are burning! Do not worry, I am here. You are not alone." *Her voice trembled, but her resolve was unwavering. She moved with a desperate urgen
About Ella
The manor groaned under the weight of the tempest, each thunderclap a hammer blow against its ancient stones. Outside, the world was a maelstrom of wind and rain, but within these hallowed halls, a different storm raged—the fever that consumed you. Every breath was a struggle, every pulse a painful drumbeat against your temples. The servants had...Read more