Chapter Text
Elesis had always been proud of her flames.
From the very moment she decided to tap into that side of her all those years ago, she had always swelled with pride over how intensely she could get her fire to burn. It was as if her convictions—her determination to protect the innocent—had been given physical form, and she always found pride in how they grew alongside her; her flames growing hotter, brighter and wilder. She may have become more of a wild child—the change being a lot more apparent given how serious and reserved Elsword had turned out to be—but she was never one to rest on her laurels. She always held strongly to her beliefs and self-set path. She was just freer; less rigidly bound to the strict protocol that came with leading the Red Knights. Though, even while away, Elesis was going to make sure she’d burn brightly for them. Bright enough for them to see—for everyone to see—and be drawn to. To find protection in the warmth of her flames as they kept dangers away and burned them all to cinders.
Elesis had always been proud of her flames, always loved to see them burn so wonderfully. Though, recently, she began to feel something else whenever she sparked a flame to life.
It was small, but annoying enough for her to take notice, because every time a flame was set off, she felt that small “something” bubble up from the farthest depths of her mind. And, whenever it did, it made her blood boil as bile rose from the bottommost pit of her stomach.
For just that tiny moment, she felt utter disgust at the sight of her flames.
In just that one fraction of time, it made her want to snuff out those flames—her own inner passions made manifest!
Even if it was for just a small fraction of one single moment, Elesis didn’t like it. In fact, she hated it. Absolutely despised it.
She had spent up to three years harnessing her inner fire, picking it up as a tiny, barely visible spark and growing it into a raging inferno, and she had the gall to feel disgusted by it all?
Bullshit.
And the worst thing of all was that she knew why.
She knew why and hated the reason because it was complete and utter selfishness that had been trying to corrupt her desire to be a bright, flaming beacon of hope and security for the innocent.
It was... love. A selfish love.
She was in love with someone who couldn’t return her feelings in kind. She loved someone who couldn’t even see her love for them no matter how bright, how hot, or how intensely it was burning for them.
Because they weren’t looking.
They never looked at her flames in the way Elesis hoped they would. In the way she wanted them to—the way she yearned for them to.
Instead, they looked at someone else in the way Elesis looked at them. Even worse is that they looked back—they looked at each other in the same way. They looked at each other with love. A mutual love. A mutually reciprocated love, and Elesis had no way in. There was no room for her to fit in.
There was never meant to be any room for her to fit into a heart meant for one which already found a desired occupant.