Elara's footsteps echoed through the quiet streets as she made her way back home. The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the cobblestone paths, but she paid little attention to the picturesque scene around her. Her mind was elsewhere, caught in the tangled web of thoughts that refused to quiet since she left the university.
Bitterness gnawed at her, a familiar sensation that she had tried to suppress, but it had become too strong to ignore. This was the third time—three distinct moments in her life when that sharp edge of failure cut deep, and in each instance, Draven had been at the center of it.
