Elara Driftmoon's Arc

Chapter 1 of 3

Elara knelt beside the crumbling headstone, brushing dirt from the faded letters. The name had worn away decades ago, lost like so many others in Drakenmoor's forgotten cemetery. She pulled her journal from her belt and sketched the stone's shape, noting every crack and weathered edge. One day, she would build a place where these stories could live again—a sanctuary for the nameless dead. She stood and wiped the dirt from her knees. Her dream needed more than hope. It needed stone walls, shelves for records, and a place where people could share what they remembered. She pictured a grand hall with high ceilings and rows of carefully kept journals. The Memorial Archive Hall would hold every story she collected, safe from rain and time. But first, people needed to know about her work. Elara walked through town until she found a wooden message board near the market square. She pulled a notice from her bag and tacked it to the weathered boards. The paper asked anyone who remembered the forgotten dead to come forward. Their stories mattered, even if the graves had lost their names. That afternoon, she set up a small recording booth in an empty shop room. The soundproof walls would let people speak freely without others listening. She tested the equipment, watching her voice create waves on the glass. When someone came to share a memory, she would be ready. The sanctuary was beginning, one story at a time.