CURSED

CHAPTER SIX - ELARA

It had been a week since the tension-filled meeting, but the memory of it still lingered in Elara's mind. She hadn't spoken much to anyone since, choosing to avoid Rowan's family and throwing herself into her training and work. But now, she found herself at Maya's cottage, seeking the kind of quiet that only a good friend could provide.

Maya's cottage was a vibrant burst of color amidst the village. The door, a rich purple, was adorned with delicate hand-painted jasmine, marigolds, and dahlias, their intricate petals bright against the wood. The windows, framed in a bold orange, overlooked flowerbeds brimming with the same blooms from the door, their sweet fragrance filling the air. Ivy twisted up the stone walls, dotted with tiny blossoms that seemed to climb toward the roof. A winding pathway led to the entrance, bordered by an explosion of flowers in every hue imaginable. Elara always admired the cottage's beauty, a haven of life and color, so different from the dullness of her own home.

Inside, it was warm and welcoming. She sat at the wooden table in the kitchen, her hands wrapped around a mug of tea, the warmth seeping into her fingers. The room was alive with color, a continuation of the vibrant world outside. The walls were hand-painted by Maya, with delicate vines and bright flowers stretching across the surfaces, each petal and leaf lovingly detailed. Even the chairs and cabinets carried splashes of color—yellows, blues, and greens that brought the room to life. Elara had occasionally helped, adding her own strokes before growing weary, eventually retreating to the worn yet comfortable sofa by the table. The cushions were a patchwork of soft, faded fabrics, the kind that invited you to sink in and forget the world outside.

The sunlight filtered through delicate, sheer curtains, casting soft patterns onto the hardwood floors, while the scent of herbs and spices mingled with the air. It was a small space, but cozy, filled with a sense of warmth and care. Maya moved about the room, her quiet presence a comfort, as she hummed softly, tending to the little things that made this space feel more like home than anywhere else.

Maya paused, glancing at Elara. "You've been quiet since you got here. Still thinking about what happened?"

She let out a breath, shaking her head. "I can't stop thinking about it. It's like... I can't shake the feeling that I've ruined everything."

Maya sighed, sitting across from her. "You didn't ruin anything, Elara. You're not the first person to lose their temper, and you won't be the last."

"Maybe. But it's more than that, Maya. I thought... I thought I was part of something important, but now, I'm just sitting on the sidelines."

Maya reached across the table, her hand covering Elara's in a gesture of understanding. "You're important. Even if you're not on that mission, you're still part of this."

The soft clinking of their mugs filled the silence in Maya's cottage, the warmth of the tea doing little to ease the tension Elara felt in the pit of her stomach. She had come here to escape her thoughts, not dive back into the mess she'd been trying to avoid. But Maya's presence was comforting, even when the air between them felt heavy with unspoken words.

"So..." Maya began softly, her fingers tracing the rim of her cup, "how's Rowan?"

Elara sighed, her shoulders tensing at the question. She didn't like being caught between them—her two closest friends who had once been inseparable. "I thought we agreed on me not being the messenger."

Maya chuckled, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "We did, didn't we?"

They sat in the quiet for a moment, the sounds of the village outside a distant hum. Elara, unable to ignore the weight pressing down on her chest, broke the silence. "I miss it, you know? How close we all were. Rowan and I... we hardly even go to the barn now."