The guildhall had cleared, and silence fell over the space. Only a few stayed behind—Hargrave, eager and glowing with pride, and several guild members who watched with a mixture of awe and curiosity. Ellie stood in the center of the room, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat in the void.

Seren moved with quiet precision, her dark robes brushing the floor as she approached. She carried no visible staff, no relic of power, and yet the space around her seemed to hum with energy, a tension that rippled through the air, invisible yet unmistakable. Her eyes never left Ellie, sharp and unwavering, as if she were already dissecting every twitch, every breath, peeling back layers of mystery that Ellie herself hadn’t known were there.

“The first test will be simple,” Seren said, her voice calm, neutral. “I want to see the nature of your magic. The way it moves through you.”

Ellie’s mind raced. What nature? She didn’t have a magical nature—at least, not the kind these people believed she had. Her powers were chaotic, unstable. And more than that, she barely understood them herself. But Seren was watching, waiting. The others, Hargrave included, leaned in, all expectant. The room’s silence pressed down on her, thick as a cloak.

Seren stepped back, giving her space, and the moment stretched unbearably.

“Show me.” Not a command, but a quiet request—one impossible to deny.

“What can I do?” Ellie raised her hands, trembling slightly, and glanced around the room. Her eyes darted toward the corner, where a stack of wooden crates sat, innocuous and quiet. “Maybe if I just move something… small. Nothing dangerous. Keep it simple.”

She took a breath and stretched her hand toward the crates, willing something—anything—to happen. Her heart pounded in her chest, and the room felt colder, the air sharper.

At first, nothing moved. She could hear the quiet murmurs of those watching, feel the weight of their collective gaze on her. Panic bloomed in her chest. Please, just do something. Move, tip, levitate—anything.

And then it happened.

A soft creaking sound, barely audible, cut through the room. One of the crates shuddered slightly, then tipped, falling onto the floor with a dull thud. It wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t controlled. But it was enough.

For a brief moment, the hall was utterly still, and Ellie felt her breath catch in her throat. Had she done it? Was that… magic?

Hargrave’s face broke into a grin. “There! You see? She didn’t even say a word!” He turned to Seren, his eyes gleaming with pride. “That’s the kind of power we’re dealing with. No incantations, no fuss—just raw ability.”

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Ellie wanted to collapse on the spot. The crate had fallen by sheer chance—another stroke of impossible luck—and yet here they were, convinced it was some kind of masterful display.

Seren’s expression, however, remained unchanged. She stepped forward, her eyes flicking to the crate, then back to Ellie. “Interesting, but that was… subtle. Controlled. Let’s try something a little more demanding.”

Ellie’s pulse quickened. “More demanding?”

Her knees wobbled slightly as Seren raised a hand and drew a small circle in the air, threads of light trailing from her fingertips. A faint shimmer appeared in the center of the room, a tiny orb of light, pulsing softly with energy.

“Try and move this,” Seren said, her voice low. “It’s a simple conjuration. No danger. But I need to see how your magic interacts with external forces.”

Ellie stared at the orb. It floated just above the ground, casting a soft, pale light. It looked harmless enough. But Ellie knew better. There was nothing simple about magic. Especially not for her.

She took a step closer, feeling every eye in the room on her. Her palms were sweaty, her mind scrambling for a solution. “Maybe I can make it flicker. Maybe if I concentrate, I can—”

Her thoughts were cut short as her foot slipped. Her heart lurched, and she stumbled forward, one hand flailing out to catch her balance. As she did, her fingertips brushed the orb, and in that instant, everything went wrong.

The orb pulsed violently, expanding in a sudden, brilliant flash of light. Ellie gasped, throwing her hands up to shield her eyes as the orb exploded outward, a wave of harmless energy rippling through the room. The walls shook with the force of it, sending loose papers flying and chairs skittering across the floor.

For a moment, Ellie thought she had destroyed the entire guildhall. But when the light faded, the room was intact. The orb was gone, dissipated into nothing. And everyone was staring at her in stunned silence.

Hargrave was the first to speak. His booming laughter filled the hall, breaking the tension. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Did you see that? No one else could’ve done it with that kind of power!”

Ellie felt her legs give way slightly, and she caught herself on a nearby chair, her heart racing. She hadn’t meant to—she didn’t even know how it had happened—but it was too late now. The myth of Ellie Liddell had just grown even larger.

Seren, however, remained quiet. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, narrowed as she watched Ellie. There was no awe in her gaze, no excitement. Just… suspicion.

“Interesting,” Seren said again, her tone thoughtful. “Very… interesting.”

Ellie’s stomach twisted. She could feel the weight of Seren’s scrutiny now, heavier than before. The investigator wasn’t convinced. Not yet. But she had seen something. And that was worse.

“We’ll continue tomorrow.” Seren’s voice cut through the lingering excitement in the hall. “I’ll need to see more before I can draw any conclusions.”

The words hung in the air like a sentence. Ellie nodded, unable to speak, her throat too tight with fear. Tomorrow. There would be more tests, more chances to fail. She could feel the walls closing in around her again, tighter and tighter.

“Rest well, Ellie Liddell.” Seren turned away, already heading for the door, her dark robes trailing behind her. “We have much to do.”

As the door closed behind her, Ellie slumped into the chair, her breath shaky. She had barely survived today, and tomorrow promised even worse. How long could her luck hold? How long before they all saw the truth?

How long before everything fell apart?