ELARIS- A Girl Shaped By Tragedy

2 | Nostalgia

-BACKSTORY-

"My Ella, you look like an angel," Aster said, lifting her five-year-old daughter into the air. Elaris giggled, her small arms flailing with joy. She was about to leave for her first performance with a group of neighborhood children, a simple dance, but for Aster, it felt monumental.

Aster held her in a tight embrace before letting her go.

"Bye, Mama!" Ella waved her tiny hands, skipping off with her friends.

Aster smiled and watched until she disappeared. When the door closed behind her, the warmth in the room began to fade.

~~~

An hour later, the doorbell rang.

Aster opened the door and froze. Her eyes met the tall figure standing in the doorway. Charles, her husband, was home. She tried to smile but faltered, the weight of unspoken words between them heavy as ever.

"I'm relieved to see you back... safe," she said finally, her voice strained.

Charles walked past her, his boots clunking on the wooden floor, and collapsed onto the couch. He stretched out, his eyes distant and expressionless, fixed on nothing. Removing his boots, he glanced at her with indifference.

"What else did you expect?"

Aster stood in the doorway, feeling the growing chasm between them. She could see the fatigue in his eyes, the toll of war written on his face, yet there was no tenderness, no shared relief.

"How are you and Ella?" he asked, but his tone carried no real interest.

"We're fine. Ella missed you..."

"Missed me?" Charles chuckled darkly. "She's five. She'll forget me soon enough."

Aster couldn't believe what she was hearing. She took a step forward, her frustration rising. "She's your daughter, Charles. She needs you. I need you."

Charles looked up at her, his face hardening. "I'm a soldier. I don't have the luxury of worrying about feelings. I have a duty. That's what matters."

"A duty? To whom? Your king? What about your family?"

"You don't understand," he said sharply, rising to his feet. His towering frame loomed over her, casting a shadow. "I've been through hell these past few months. I'm out there, risking my life while you sit here, complaining about feelings."

Aster swallowed her sadness, trying to stand her ground. "I'm not asking for much, Charles. I'm just asking you to care."

Charles sighed, rubbing his temples. "I'll be here for a few days. Maybe less. We're gearing up for more conflict. The country's in chaos."

Aster's heart sank. She had hoped for more time, for a chance to reconnect. "And then what? You'll leave again? For how long this time?"

"As long as it takes. You know that." He said it so casually, as if it were just a routine.

Before Aster could respond, a small voice broke the tension.

"Mama! I'm home!"

Ella's cheerful voice rang through the house as she dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes. She wandered into the living room, her eyes falling on Charles. Her steps faltered as she stared at him, her face filled with confusion and curiosity.

Charles turned, his expression softening at the sight of his daughter. For a brief moment, the hard edges of his demeanor melted away.

"Ella?" His voice was gentle, almost unsure. He knelt down, bringing his massive frame to her level.

Ella stared at him, her eyes wide as if she had seen a ghost. "Papa?" she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement and hesitation. She took a tentative step forward.

~ELARIS~

That evening, we had dinner together for the first time in what felt like forever. It should have been a happy moment, but there was something wrong. Mama's smiles were too forced, Papa's words too few.

After dinner, Mama tucked me into bed. She kissed my forehead, her soft hands brushing my hair. "Goodnight, my love," she whispered before leaving the room.

But I couldn't sleep. Minutes later, a sound pierced the quiet... a muffled sob. I opened my eyes, listening intently. It was Mama. The sobs grew louder, followed by the low rumble of Papa's voice, angry, sharp.

I crept to the door and pressed my ear against it, trying to understand what they were saying. I heard Papa's voice, louder now, clearer.

"Why does he care?" he yelled.

A crash followed, something breaking against the wall. Mama gasped. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. Was Mama hurt?

I pressed harder against the door, desperate to hear more. Their voices clashed: Papa's filled with anger, Mama's pleading, but her words were drowned out by his rage.

Another crash. My heart sank deeper. I wanted to open the door, to run to Mama, but fear kept me rooted in place.

The argument ended as suddenly as it began, the heavy silence that followed more terrifying than the shouts. I stood there, trembling, unsure what to do. I felt so small, so powerless.

Finally, I crawled back into bed and pulled the covers over my head. But sleep wouldn't come. The sound of their fight echoed in my mind, their voices mixing with the fear that inside me.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, hoping that everything would be okay till morning.

pg. 2