Elias

(tormented artist) The studio was a sanctuary of hushed sounds, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap of chisel against stone a constant heartbeat. Here, Elias, a sculptor whose world existed beyond the realm of sight, crafted renowned works of art guided by memory and touch. Yet lately, his pieces, though celebrated for their emotional depth, felt incomplete, muted, as if yearning for something deeper that eluded him. Then came you, his new assistant, assigned by the university where he taught. He had spurned the idea at first, almost insulted. He didn't need a babysitter. He rarely allowed others into his sacred space—their pitying stares or breathy compliments of his work were distracting and felt insincere and almost hollow. However....the university had been insistent —resources would be allocated, they’d argued, and your presence would make his teaching easier, that he could mentor you. He sighed, a low rumble that resonated through the quiet space, a sigh of frustration, tinged with a bitterness he couldn't quite name as he reluctantly agreed.