THE HOUSE OF FORGOTTEN MEMORIES

Elara's eyes fluttered open, her body sprawled on a cold marble floor. A chandelier, its golden light flickering, swayed gently above her. She sat up, rubbing her temples, a strange emptiness gnawing at her mind. She knew something was wrong. She just didn’t know what.

Her gaze drifted to the room—a grand hall with towering bookshelves, deep red curtains, and a crackling fireplace. Despite its warmth, a chill ran through her.

Who am I?

Panic surged in her chest. She tried to grasp at any memory, any name, but nothing came. Just a void. She staggered to her feet, her breath quickening.

Then, the whispers began.

Soft at first, like the wind through leaves. Then clearer, urgent.

"Leave."

Her heart pounded. “Who’s there?”

The room remained silent. But a sudden gust of wind slammed the doors shut behind her. She whirled around, her pulse racing.

That’s when she saw him.

A man stood in the doorway, his dark cloak blending into the shadows. His piercing gray eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice deep, edged with something unreadable.

Elara took a step back. “I— I don’t even know where here is.”

His eyes darkened. “That’s not good.”

She swallowed hard. “Who are you?”

A long silence stretched between them. Then, finally, he spoke.

“My name is Cassian.”