In the quiet village on the outskirts of Eldritch Hollow, the air was thick with anticipation. It was a day like no other, the day when the selectors would come. Every few years, they descended upon the village, searching for the next "vase maiden"—the girl whose beauty would grace the famed vases of Eldritch Hollow. No one knew exactly what being chosen entailed, but the whispers of wealth and honor had permeated the hearts of the villagers. This was the day when a family's fate could change forever.
Among the hopefuls was a girl named Elara. She was sixteen, with a delicate beauty that had always set her apart. Her hair was as dark as the night sky, her eyes a striking shade of green that seemed to hold secrets even she didn't know. Her family was poor, barely scraping by with the little they could gather from their modest farm. But today, hope fluttered in their hearts.
Elara stood before the small, cracked mirror in their one-room cottage, smoothing her dress, the only decent one she owned. Her mother watched her from the corner, eyes filled with a mixture of pride and sorrow. "You look beautiful, Elara," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "Remember, if they choose you, it's for the best. It means a better life for all of us."
Elara nodded, forcing a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She had heard the stories of the vase maidens, how they were taken to Eldritch Hollow and never seen again. Some said they lived in luxury, others whispered of darker things—of girls who were trapped and never allowed to leave. But those were just rumors, weren't they?
The knock at the door came at midday. Elara's heart raced as she smoothed her dress one last time. Her father opened the door to reveal three figures, dressed in fine clothes that contrasted starkly with the humble surroundings. The leader, a tall man with sharp features and cold, calculating eyes, stepped inside. He surveyed the room, his gaze lingering on Elara.
"So, this is the girl?" he asked, his voice as smooth as silk, yet carrying an undertone of something darker. He approached Elara, circling her slowly, inspecting her as one might a prized possession. "Yes, she will do nicely," he murmured, almost to himself.
Elara's heart pounded in her chest. She didn't know whether to feel relief or dread. The man nodded to his companions, and they stepped forward, placing a gentle but firm hand on Elara's shoulders.
"Elara of the North Village, you have been chosen to serve the town of Eldritch Hollow. Your beauty will bring honor to your family and prosperity to your village," the man said, his tone final, as if sealing her fate.
Elara glanced at her parents. Her mother had tears in her eyes, her father's expression was a mix of pride and something she couldn't quite place—fear, perhaps? They had prepared for this moment, yet now that it was here, it felt surreal.
"Come, child," the man said, his grip tightening slightly as if sensing her hesitation.
Elara took a deep breath, stepping forward. She felt like she was walking in a dream, her movements slow and heavy. As she crossed the threshold of her home, she looked back one last time. Her mother was crying openly now, her father holding her tightly. They were letting her go, believing she was stepping into a brighter future. Elara wanted to believe that too.
As they led her away, the village seemed to blur around her. The path to Eldritch Hollow was long and winding, taking her farther from everything she had ever known. The selectors spoke little, their faces a mask of indifference. Elara tried to suppress the growing unease in her chest, focusing instead on the promise of a better life.
But as the sun dipped below the horizon and the towering gates of Eldritch Hollow loomed before her, the dread she had been pushing down threatened to overwhelm her. The gates creaked open, revealing a town unlike any she had ever seen—grand, imposing, and eerily silent. The shadows seemed to stretch unnaturally long, and the air was thick with an oppressive weight.
They led her through winding streets until they reached a large, ornate building in the heart of the town. The doors opened, and Elara was ushered inside. The interior was dark, lit only by flickering candles that cast ominous shadows on the walls. A woman, tall and severe, with a smile that didn't reach her eyes, greeted them.
"Welcome to your new home, Elara," she said, her voice dripping with false warmth. "You have been chosen to be the next vase maiden. Your beauty will be immortalized in the most exquisite of vases, and you shall live in comfort and luxury."
Elara tried to smile, but her heart was pounding in her chest. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. The woman's eyes glinted with something that sent a shiver down Elara's spine.
"Come, we have much to prepare," the woman said, turning to lead the way deeper into the building.
Elara followed, her steps heavy with a growing sense of dread. The shadows seemed to close in around her as the doors shut behind her, sealing her fate. The reality of what she had been chosen for was beginning to sink in, and with it, the first seeds of fear took root in her heart.
The vase maiden's life had begun, and there would be no turning back.