Loss (2)

"It was your fault."

Elara clenched her fists, pressing them against her knees as she hunched forward. The dim candlelight flickered in her room, casting restless shadows against the wooden walls.

If I had been stronger… If I had tried harder… If I hadn't let myself falter even for a second…

The thought gnawed at her, sharp and relentless. She had spent the last five years clawing her way to strength, building herself up from nothing. The years after her exile had been brutal—surviving on scraps, working whatever jobs she could find just to keep herself moving forward. And then, her master had taken her in. Under their tutelage, she had pushed herself beyond limits she never thought possible.

All of it had been for one purpose.

Revenge.