The War.

Chapter 44: Emblem?

"Please don't hurt me," Ella murmured, her voice trembling with fear as she gazed up at Stella. The woman's sharp heels echoed ominously through the quiet building as she approached, each step filling Ella with dread. Stella kneeled in front of her, something she never did. To Stella, kneeling was an act of submission, something she considered beneath her. But alas every rule has to have an exception.

Stella's hand gently rested on Ella's shoulder, and Ella instinctively recoiled, her body tensing in fear. Yet, instead of pain, warmth spread through her shoulder. Ella realized with surprise that Stella was healing her. A soft glow enveloped the wound, and the throbbing pain slowly faded, the exhaustion lifting from her body, an image of her mother flashing in front of her.

But despite the kindness of the act, Stella's face remained cold, her expression as unreadable as stone. There was no warmth in her eyes, no softening in her demeanor. The tension around her was palpable, as though healing someone came at a price to her emotions. Stella despised emotion, hated it. There were reasons for that, stories she had buried deep within herself, so far down that no one knew about them. Not anymore.

"Follow me." Stella commanded, her tone brooking no argument. She rose to her feet, leaving the room as Ella trailed behind, fighting back tears. With every step they took through the building, Ella's sense of dread grew, but so did her confusion.

As they walked through the long, shadowy corridors, Ella noticed something strange—everyone they passed bowed to Stella as though she were royalty, an empress or perhaps even a goddess. She carried herself like one, and they seemed to revere her as such. Stella's regal appearance, combined with her icy demeanor, only added to the illusion.

Finally, they reached the top floor where Stella's office was located. The moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The coldness from the corridors vanished, replaced by a refreshing breeze from the air conditioning. Ella stood frozen for a moment, taking in the opulence of the space—plush chairs, polished wood, and the faint scent of leather and lavender.

Stella, however, paid no attention to Ella's hesitation. She moved to her desk and sat down, flipping through papers with quick, efficient movements. Without looking up, she asked, "What's your name?"

The question hung in the air for a moment. It felt more like a demand than a simple inquiry. Ella stood there in silence, too terrified to speak. After a tense pause, Stella's eyes lifted, locking onto Ella with an expectant gaze.

"Answer the question." she commanded, her voice low but firm, each word sending a chill through Ella's spine.

"Ella," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible, but it was enough for Stella, who turned her attention back to her papers without another word.

"Ella," Stella repeated, as if testing the name, her eyes narrowing slightly in thought. "I have something for you." She waved a hand toward one of the workers, giving them a quiet instruction to retrieve something from another room.

Ella remained frozen by the entrance, still too terrified to move an inch. Her heart pounded as she imagined all the possibilities of what "something" might mean.

"You can sit," Stella ordered, her attention still fixed on the papers in front of her, barely sparing Ella a glance as she gestured to a couch on the side.

"Thank you," Ella mumbled, her voice shaky, as she forced herself to move. She sat down cautiously, her hands gripping the edge of the couch.

In her mind, panic raced.

I can't die.
I can't die.
I can't die.

The words repeated over and over, a mantra of desperation as she waited to see what fate Stella had in store for her.