The Forgotten Peace
637 Words
The place Elara lived in was far from anything one would call luxurious.
Her quarters were small, quiet, and overlooked by most of the palace staff. Servants rarely treated her with respect, often forgetting her requests or delaying them as if she did not matter.
In contrast, Seraphine lived in the highest wing of the palace. Her rooms were bright, elegant, and filled with rare decorations brought from foreign lands. Kael, her tiger, was treated like a symbol of power itself. Guards bowed when they passed, and nobles spoke her name with admiration.
Yet Elara never felt envy.
She did not compare, nor did she resent what she lacked.
Her days were simple and steady. She read when she had time, tended to her surroundings, and quietly maintained the black snake that remained in her care.
Over time, the snake’s condition improved. Its breathing became stable, its body slowly regaining strength.
But something about it began to change.
The black scales along its body grew darker, deeper, and strangely reflective. Under certain light, they shimmered faintly, almost as if they were absorbing light rather than reflecting it.
Elara noticed it but said nothing.
Two years passed in this quiet rhythm.
Until the war began.
The kingdom’s borders were thrown into chaos as neighboring nations invaded. One morning, an urgent summons reached both Elara and Seraphine.
They were ordered to appear in the main hall immediately.
The atmosphere inside the palace had changed. Servants moved quickly, voices tense and controlled. The usual order felt fragile, as if it could break at any moment.
When Elara entered the hall, the king was already there.
He looked older than before, exhaustion carved into his face.
“This war has reached a critical point,” he said heavily. “If it weren’t necessary, I would not call you here.”
His eyes turned toward Seraphine and Kael.
For the first time, there was something close to desperation in his expression.
He did not look at Elara.
Seraphine stood calmly beside Kael, her hand resting lightly on the tiger’s fur. Kael remained still, but its presence alone filled the hall with pressure.
“You don’t need to worry, Father,” Seraphine said confidently. “Leave it to us.”
Her voice was steady, almost reassuring.
The king nodded slightly, as if comforted by her words.
Kael’s golden eyes flickered faintly, observing everything in silence.
At that moment, Elara noticed something.
The snake she had brought with her, coiled quietly at her side, lifted its head slightly. Its dark eyes were fixed not on the king, not on the hall, but on Seraphine and Kael.
There was something sharp in that gaze.
Cold.
Elara thought it was only instinct—the natural comparison of a weaker creature facing something far stronger.
Or perhaps… longing.
She reached out gently and stroked the snake’s head.
“It’s alright,” she whispered softly. “You don’t need to be like them.”
The moment her fingers touched it, the black snake recoiled.
It pulled away abruptly, as if her touch had reached something it refused to accept.
Its body shifted back, putting distance between them—completely.
Then it looked at her.
Cold.
Detached.
Even faintly disdainful.
Elara froze for a brief moment.
The hall continued to move and breathe around her, but inside her chest there was a quiet, unexplainable sting.
The snake did not come closer again.
It simply stayed away. And its gaze no longer followed Seraphine and Kael—it was fixed entirely on Elara, as if she were the one not worth noticing.
For the first time, Elara felt something she could not name.
Not pain.
Not anger.
But a quiet instinct: something about their bond had already gone wrong without her realizing it.
And she still did not understand why.
- Writer
