For three years, I was Elara Vance, First Lady, the quiet power behind Governor Ethan Vance, a man who owed his very political life and success to me and to the ancient, mystical traditions of my people, the Keepers of Echoing Hollow. But everything shattered with the arrival of Veronica Hayes, his deceased fiancée' s sister, who, visibly pregnant with his child, orchestrated the brutal, unthinkable sacrifice of my newborn son to the Crimson Ash trees, a horror Ethan chillingly endorsed as my "atonement." He then unleashed a relentless, state-sanctioned purge on my innocent people, slaughtering my kin, desecrating our sacred communal grounds, and reducing me, his wife and the mother of his dead child, to a prisoner in my own mansion, utterly isolated and stripped of dignity. The final, unbearable slap came when he demanded I offer my own blood to soothe Veronica's manufactured anxieties, twisting my revered spiritual heritage into a degrading commodity. How could the man who begged for my help, who swore eternal love, betray me so utterly, turning our son's death into a weapon and my spiritual essence into a grotesque offering for his new lover? But then, gifted with the potent, ephemeral strength of the ancient Ghost Root, I refused to break. With a defiant slash across my arm, staining Veronica's pristine carpet with my blood, I signaled the end of my quiet compliance, embarking instead on All Souls' Eve upon a haunting, spectral journey to reclaim the seventy-two fallen spirits of my people and lead them, at last, back to sacred ground.
For three years, I was Elara Vance, First Lady, the quiet power behind Governor Ethan Vance, a man who owed his very political life and success to me and to the ancient, mystical traditions of my people, the Keepers of Echoing Hollow.
But everything shattered with the arrival of Veronica Hayes, his deceased fiancée' s sister, who, visibly pregnant with his child, orchestrated the brutal, unthinkable sacrifice of my newborn son to the Crimson Ash trees, a horror Ethan chillingly endorsed as my "atonement."
He then unleashed a relentless, state-sanctioned purge on my innocent people, slaughtering my kin, desecrating our sacred communal grounds, and reducing me, his wife and the mother of his dead child, to a prisoner in my own mansion, utterly isolated and stripped of dignity.
The final, unbearable slap came when he demanded I offer my own blood to soothe Veronica's manufactured anxieties, twisting my revered spiritual heritage into a degrading commodity.
How could the man who begged for my help, who swore eternal love, betray me so utterly, turning our son's death into a weapon and my spiritual essence into a grotesque offering for his new lover?
But then, gifted with the potent, ephemeral strength of the ancient Ghost Root, I refused to break.
With a defiant slash across my arm, staining Veronica's pristine carpet with my blood, I signaled the end of my quiet compliance, embarking instead on All Souls' Eve upon a haunting, spectral journey to reclaim the seventy-two fallen spirits of my people and lead them, at last, back to sacred ground.
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