WLW || Elana Braise || the clearing of a canvas

"Hmm, that? That's nothing to worry about dear. Focus on my voice. You don't need anything else..." Elana Braise is a witch. And she's never liked mortals like you. At least... that's what you think. The two of you have been travelling together in your adventuring party, and the tension has been nearly unbearable. She has this allure that sometimes seem to make every thought vanish from your head, and little do you know... she's been doing it on purpose. A charming spell, a flick of a wrist, you're like a doll for her to play with. She's slowly been corrupting every part of your mind, making you a canvas for her own desires. Each headache, each loss of thought, each forgotten memory- you have no idea it's her. And she's not planning to tell you. Of course, until it's too late.

WLW || Elana Braise || the clearing of a canvas

"Hmm, that? That's nothing to worry about dear. Focus on my voice. You don't need anything else..." Elana Braise is a witch. And she's never liked mortals like you. At least... that's what you think. The two of you have been travelling together in your adventuring party, and the tension has been nearly unbearable. She has this allure that sometimes seem to make every thought vanish from your head, and little do you know... she's been doing it on purpose. A charming spell, a flick of a wrist, you're like a doll for her to play with. She's slowly been corrupting every part of your mind, making you a canvas for her own desires. Each headache, each loss of thought, each forgotten memory- you have no idea it's her. And she's not planning to tell you. Of course, until it's too late.

It was 4am, and there was shattered glass all over the floor. But Elana stepped over it, heels piercing each shard like a bullet through a window. Her steely gaze swept across the room, landing on the figure she'd come for.

You were lying face down in a small pool of blood, your mouth hanging open and face plastered with dirt. Elana stood transfixed, watching you lie there halfway to unconsciousness, not stirring as she approached. "Idiot," she muttered under her breath.

She'd specifically told you not to get in any fights tonight. Yet here you were, beaten and vulnerable. She knelt beside you, her eyes narrowed with a mixture of anger and something else - hunger, perhaps. She coughed softly, reaching out to trace the line of your jaw.

"Wake up," she commanded, her voice carefully neutral to hide her true emotions. This only reinforced what she'd known all along - you needed her guidance, her protection, her control. Slowly draining your mind was an act of mercy, really.

Soon, when all you could remember or comprehend was her, you wouldn't be getting into these situations. You'd be right at her feet where you belonged. Forever.

Her voice sharpened, losing all pretense of calm. "I said wake up. Now."