The night had settled over Greymire, cloaking the village in a deep, velvet quiet. Ellie stood by her small window, peering out at the darkened street below. The last of the lamps flickered and died, swallowed by the shadows until the village became nothing but vague shapes under the star-strewn sky. Her fingers tapped nervously on the windowsill, rhythmically, as if trying to soothe her frayed nerves.

"This is it," she whispered to herself, her breath fogging the glass. "My last night here."

A knot twisted in her stomach, her heart thumping erratically. Was it dread or relief? Maybe both. The cycle of misunderstandings had spun out of control, each day tightening the web around her. If she stayed, it would only get worse. Someone would eventually uncover the truth.

She exhaled shakily, her gaze falling to the small pack on her bed. It was nearly ready—just the essentials. Some food, a flask of water, a cloak, and a simple dagger. She had agonized over the packing, considering taking more—her favorite book, the small trinkets that had piled up over her time in Greymire. But she couldn’t afford the weight. Her hands hovered over a carved wooden token, a gift from a guild member.

"It's just stuff," she muttered, though her voice trembled. "None of it matters out there."

The silence of the room pressed in around her, deafening in its stillness. She crossed to her bed and cinched the pack shut, her fingers tracing its worn edges. The plan played over and over in her mind, a desperate litany to calm her racing thoughts.

Ellie had been careful, careful not to rouse suspicion. A few murmurs about needing supplies for a "personal journey" had been enough to keep questions at bay. The guild had always respected her space, never prying too deep.

That trust gnawed at her now. Her chest tightened at the thought of their faces when they discovered she was gone. How long would it take before they noticed? Would they come after her?

Ellie shook her head sharply. No. They wouldn’t understand.

She turned her back on the window. It wasn’t about them. It was about survival. Her survival.

The legend they had built around her—the invincible Ellie, the unshakable warrior—was a lie. She wasn’t a hero. She wasn’t even particularly brave. Weak magic. No grand powers. Just Ellie. Just... her.

Her pulse quickened. The weight of their expectations had become suffocating, a noose tightening with each passing day. Thorne's defeat had cemented her reputation beyond redemption. They truly believed she could face anything. And what would happen when they realized she couldn’t? When they saw that she had been pretending all along?

She couldn’t let it get that far.

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Ellie crossed the room swiftly, snatching up the small purse of coins hidden beneath her pillow. It wasn’t much, but it would get her a few days out of Greymire. Her heart pounded in her chest as she paused by the door, listening for any movement outside.

The place was silent. She’d timed this perfectly—no guests stirring, no prying eyes. As her hand touched the door, she hesitated.

"Am I really doing this?" The silence seemed to answer, oppressive and cold.

Her mind raced with the faces of the guild—their smiles, their unshakable belief in her. Would they think she had betrayed them? Abandoned them? Ellie felt a pang of guilt rise in her chest, sharper than she expected.

"They’ll be better off," she muttered, as if saying it out loud would make it true. "They’ll find another hero."

With a deep breath, Ellie opened the door a crack and slipped into the narrow corridor. The common room below was dimly lit by the embers in the hearth, casting long shadows across the empty tables and chairs. She crept silently past them, her boots making no sound on the worn wooden floor. The innkeeper would be asleep, and the travelers upstairs wouldn’t stir until well after dawn.

Freedom. Just a few more steps, and it would all be behind her.

As she reached the side door, her hand resting on the latch, a thought stabbed through her mind. What if something happened? What if Kael Thorne returned? What if they came for her again?

She froze, her breath catching in her throat. What if her leaving made things worse?

“No.” She forced herself to breathe. Staying wasn’t an option. She couldn’t keep pretending. She couldn’t stay trapped in the suffocating lie they’d built around her.

Her hand trembled as she lifted the latch. She had to go. The cool night air kissed her skin, and she stepped outside into the dark, into the vast quiet that enveloped Greymire.

For a moment, she stood there, the village a soft blur of shadows behind her, the road ahead stretching into the unknown. She could almost taste the freedom. Her pulse began to slow, her heartbeat steadying.

But just as she turned to take her first step away from Greymire, something shifted in the corner of her eye. A flicker of movement at the far end of the street.

Ellie stiffened, her breath catching again. A figure—a shadow—darting between the buildings, too quick, too deliberate to be a casual passerby.

Her fingers tightened around the strap of her pack. Was someone watching her?

The weight of panic settled over her shoulders, but she shoved it down. “Don’t lose your nerve. Not now.”

She took a step forward, her movements slow, controlled. If someone was following her, she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing her afraid. Her feet moved quickly, slipping through the narrow lanes, her back pressed against the walls as she kept to the shadows. The figure didn’t reappear, but the tension in her chest didn’t ease. She couldn’t afford to stop now. Not when freedom was so close.

With each step, the distance between her and the town grew, but so did the uncertainty. Was it possible she was already too late? Had someone guessed her plan?

She shook the thought away. “Focus.”

The road stretched ahead of her, empty and dark, as Ellie slipped further into the night. Her pace quickened, the quiet of the town falling further behind her, but the shadow in her mind refused to fade. Someone had been there. Watching.

But who?