The sun hung low in the sky as Ellie and the adventuring party returned to Greymire, casting long, amber shadows over the cobbled streets. The small town, normally indifferent to the comings and goings of those who traveled for coin or glory, seemed unusually animated this evening. Word had spread quickly, as it always did in places like this. Before they even reached the gates, curious townsfolk had gathered to watch their approach.

Ellie, walking at the back of the group, felt the weight of their gazes as heavily as the pack slung over her shoulders. She had hoped—foolishly, she now realized—that their return would go unnoticed. But Hannes, Keldric, and Liora, still buzzing with the energy of their so-called victory, had been too eager to share the tale. By the time the gates creaked open to admit them, it seemed half of Greymire had heard about her supposed heroic deed.

"Ellie Liddell, the Slayer of the Stonebeast!" Hannes shouted as they crossed the threshold, his voice booming with pride as if it had been his plan all along. “You should have seen it, everyone! It was a thing of beauty!”

"Strategic genius!" Liora added, her voice pitched high with excitement. "She brought down the ceiling at the perfect moment. Not even a single spellcaster I've seen could’ve managed that—no flashy theatrics, just pure, calculated brilliance!"

Ellie wanted to correct them, to shout the truth until they saw her for what she really was—a fraud, someone who had no more business in an adventuring party than she did leading one. But the words stuck in her throat, trapped beneath the pressure of their admiring looks. It was a beast far more tenacious than the one in the ruins.

The adventurers at the guild doors caught sight of them and surged forward, eager for the story. Already the tale was spreading, reshaping itself into something grander, more fantastical with every telling.

“She didn’t even break a sweat.” Keldric grinned as he clasped forearms with the waiting adventurers. “The monster was huge—nearly took me out with a single swipe—but Ellie, she just glanced at the ceiling, and down it came. That beast didn’t stand a chance.”

The crowd parted for them, and Ellie, wanting nothing more than to disappear into the nearest alleyway, was instead pulled along in the tide of admiration. The inside of the guild hall was louder than usual, voices buzzing like a hive of bees, and every eye seemed to fix on her as they entered.

She could feel herself shrinking under their attention. For a fleeting moment, she considered telling them all—right then, in front of everyone—that they were wrong. That it had all been a mistake, a blundering, stumbling accident.

But just as quickly, she swallowed the thought. Even now, they were watching her too closely, hanging on her every move, and she knew that no amount of truth could dislodge their certainty.

“Ellie Liddell, huh?” one of the veteran adventurers leaned against the bar, arms crossed as he gave her an appraising look. His eyes were sharp, searching for something beneath her worn exterior, something hidden. “I heard about you. Quiet type, right? No need to show off with flashy spells. Calculated. Efficient. That’s the kind of mage we need more of around here.”

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Ellie offered a weak smile, every muscle in her face stiff from the effort. “I just… I just did what I could,” she muttered, hoping her words would fade into the noise around them.

But they didn’t.

“That’s what makes her different,” Liora chimed in. “She doesn’t need to prove herself like the rest of us. She’s got that quiet confidence—knows exactly what to do and when to do it. Right, Ellie?”

Ellie wanted to scream. Instead, she nodded, hoping the gesture would pass for something resembling modesty. Her mind raced, desperately seeking a way out of this mess she had unwittingly built around herself, but the walls were closing in.

Every escape route she had envisioned seemed to crumble the moment she approached it. What could she say now? That the whole thing had been an accident? That she had no control over the collapsing ceiling, and no idea how she had even survived the fight?

No. They would never believe her now.

They thought she was hiding something—and in truth, she was. Just not the immense power they imagined. The irony was bitter.

The celebrations dragged on, the noise of the guildhall rising as more adventurers pressed forward to hear the tale. Drinks were shoved into her hand, and toasts were made in her honor, each one tightening the knot of dread in her chest.

“You saved us, Ellie!” a boisterous voice shouted from the crowd, raising a tankard high. “To the bravest of us all!” Laughter and cheers erupted, drowning out her protests.

She felt as though she were sinking, swallowed up by the false legend growing around her like quicksand. “I didn’t do it alone,” she managed to whisper to the nearest reveler, but her words were lost in the swell of applause.

Hours later, when the crowd had finally thinned and the fires in the hearth had burned low, Ellie managed to slip away to her room. The narrow space felt suffocating now, its walls too close, its air too still. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, eyes shut tight against the weight of everything that had just unfolded.

“Why can’t they see the truth?” she murmured to herself, feeling the tears prick at her eyes. “I’m just me. I’m not a hero.”

The room was silent, but her thoughts were anything but.

There was no escaping it now. The myth of Ellie Liddell, the powerful and mysterious mage, was out in the world, and no amount of denial could reel it back.

Sinking onto the bed, Ellie pressed her palms against her temples, trying to push away the headache that was quickly becoming a permanent part of her life. There was only one thing she knew for certain: whatever came next, it would only make things worse.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and her heart sank even further.

Already?

"Ellie," came a voice from the hallway, muffled by the wooden door. "Guildmaster Hargrave wants to speak with you tomorrow morning. It's important."

Of course, it was.

Ellie stared at the door for a long moment before answering. "I'll be there."

As she settled back on the bed, dread pooled in her stomach, thick and inescapable. The legend of Ellie Liddell was growing larger by the day, and she had no idea how to stop it.

Outside, the moon hung low over Greymire, casting long shadows across the quiet streets. Tomorrow would come, and with it, more lies to live, more expectations to avoid.