Just like Ophelia [eng]

CHAPTER FIVE:

With the passage of time, the burning passion transformed into a searing melancholy. Exile became like an open wound, constantly present in his mind. He sought refuge once again in the wild, as if searching for the sense of freedom that had been torn away from him. The memory of shared laughter and moments with Elina haunted him, yet at the same time, it fueled his hope of one day reuniting with her.

Meanwhile, Elina, like a solitary figure in a fading painting, spent the following days by the peaceful river, alongside the murmurs in her head, a silent witness to her introspection. As weeks turned into months, the pain became a constant companion, her laughter turned into whispers, and her spirit faded like the melancholic notes of an unfinished melody.

The spark in her eyes began to fade. Her once joyous laughter grew rarer, replaced by thoughtful and distant gazes. Her passion for nature and song turned into an obsession. Elina began to withdraw from her friends, and even the patrons of the inn became concerned. She disconnected from the surrounding reality, spending more and more time in the places where she had once gone with Adrian, seeking solace.

Her delicate and pale beauty seemed to begin to fade, reflecting the tumultuous state of her mind. The eyes once full of light grew dull, and dark circles appeared under her eyes.

Elina eventually yielded entirely to the madness that had gripped her. Moments of clarity became rare and fleeting, slipping away like shadows. Her perception of reality merged with her delusions, taking her to a world entirely of her own.

One morning, as the sun was rising in the distant sky, Elina ventured resolutely into the embrace of the river, her heart burdened by a mixture of love and despair. The gentle embrace of the water seemed to understand the pain she concealed from others, just as the empathetic currents carried the stories of the past. She knew that she could continue to live as she had before meeting Adrian... yet, she could no longer imagine what her life had been like before he had entered it. Furthermore, she hoped that Adrian could live for her, as their love could defy the fate that had also threatened Adrian's life just as it did hers.

And so, the story of Elina, a woman whose experiences echoed the dark echoes of stories too ancient for you to know, dissipated like falling petals from a withering rose. The village, in hushed tones, whispered her name and preserved her memory, allowing every reader to draw their own connections between her story and the timeless tragedy that had unfolded long ago.

When I looked up again, their eyes were filled with tears. «I'm sorry, children; I should have told you something more suitable for twelve-year-olds...»

I didn't have time to finish the sentence as Izek, who was meanwhile wiping Erika's tears, spoke up, «No! It's true, it's a very sad story... but also very beautiful. Grandfather, do you think Mr. Adrian found out about Elina's death? Do you think when he heard that, he was sad?»

«Definitely, my boy.» I replied, my voice filled with emotion. «After all, he loved Elina deeply.»

I let out a short sigh and continued, «It's time to go to bed, little ones. But remember, every story has a soul, and every soul carries the lessons of the past.»

«Goodnight, Grandpa!» They exclaimed in unison as I gently closed the door to their bedroom.

And as the crackling of the fire and the echoes of my words mingled, memories of her seeped once again into the recesses of my mind.