Ellie hadn’t expected to make it through the night, much less in one piece. Yet here she was, slumped against the cold stone wall, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the dust finally settled. The mercenaries were long gone, their yells fading into distant echoes, and the passageway—once alive with humming magic—had returned to its eerie stillness.

She was free. For now.

Ellie dragged herself to her feet, legs trembling from adrenaline, and began making her way to the narrow exit that led to the streets of Greymire. Her pulse was still erratic, a mess of nerves and disbelief. Had she really survived that?

Before she could slip into the night, a soft voice called her name.

"Ellie Liddell."

She froze mid-step. The sound of footsteps followed—slow, deliberate. She turned to see a figure emerge from the shadows, cloaked in the muted gray of a uniform of some sort. A man, taller than she expected, stepped into the faint glow of the runes still etched into the stone. His face was calm, thoughtful, as though he had witnessed something significant.

“I must admit,” he began, his tone smooth and even, “that was… unexpected.” His gaze shifted to the now dormant passageway behind her, where the traps she had unwittingly triggered lay scattered like forgotten remnants of a war zone.

Ellie swallowed, unsure of what to say. "Unexpected?"

The man smiled, a small, knowing smile that made her stomach churn. “The way you led those mercenaries into the traps, timed every defense perfectly... it was a masterstroke of strategy.” He folded his hands behind his back, taking a slow step forward. “I’ve heard rumors about your skill, but to see it firsthand...”

Ellie blinked, trying to process his words. Skill? She had been running for her life, not plotting some brilliant maneuver.

“I think there’s been a mistake,” she stammered. “I didn’t mean to—”

“To what?” he interrupted, voice as smooth as ever. “To outsmart a group of elite mercenaries? To use ancient magic as if you’d been trained in it for years?” His eyes flickered with something like amusement. “Don’t be modest, Ellie.”

She shook her head, stepping back slightly. “No, you don’t understand. I just… I stumbled into that trap by accident. I didn’t—”

“Accidents don’t lead to that kind of outcome,” the man said, his voice firm but not unkind. He took another step forward, his gaze steady. “The guild has been watching you for some time now. Ever since your defeat of the sorcerer. And tonight... well, it only confirms what we suspected.”

Ellie’s pulse quickened. “What you suspected?”

He nodded. “Your gift. It’s rare. The kind of talent that could be of great use to the kingdom.”

Her stomach twisted. “I don’t have any special talent. I’m just…” She trailed off, unsure how to even explain herself. Everything she had done felt like sheer, dumb luck.

The man’s smile grew sharper, more deliberate. “Modesty is admirable, but unnecessary. Lorthraine’s High Council sees your potential, even if you don’t.”

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At the mention of the High Council, Ellie felt a jolt of panic rise in her chest. She took another step back, instinctively. “The Council?”

“Yes,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “They’ve taken a particular interest in you. They believe you have a role to play in the kingdom’s future.” His gaze shifted to meet hers fully. “And I’ve been sent to extend an offer.”

Her head spun. An offer? From the High Council? “No. I’m not… I’m not qualified for anything like that.”

“You’ve already proven your qualifications.” He spread his hands slightly, as if to encompass the entire passageway around them. “Your talents are wasted in a place like this. But in the capital? You could rise to your full potential.”

Ellie’s heart hammered in her chest. “Potential for what?”

“Influence. Power. The ability to shape the future of the kingdom.” The man’s eyes gleamed with something that made her uneasy. “With the right resources at your disposal, there’s no telling what you could achieve.”

Ellie stared at him, her thoughts whirling. Something felt off. She didn’t know this man. Not really. And what if this wasn’t what it seemed? She had already been hunted by mercenaries and sorcerers. What if this was another trap?

Her voice faltered before she spoke, but she forced the words out. “How do I know you’re really from the High Council?”

The man paused, his eyes flicking up to meet hers again, and for a moment, his smile vanished. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been chased by mercenaries all night. For all I know, you could be another one of them—another trap. Someone trying to take me back to whoever’s paying for me.” She squared her shoulders, ignoring the tremor in her voice. “How do I know you’re not just here to kidnap me?”

“You’re right to be cautious.” The man’s expression softened, and the sharpness in his eyes dimmed. He let out a soft, almost amused sigh. He tilted his head, studying her for a moment before taking a slow step forward. “But if I were here to harm you, Ellie, do you really think we’d be having this conversation?”

She stiffened as he spoke, but he kept his distance, his tone measured and almost reassuring.

“I could have taken you when the mercenaries left. I could have let the traps take you or dragged you into the night myself,” he continued, voice low. “But instead, I’m offering you something greater. An opportunity.”

Ellie’s throat tightened. She wanted to believe him, but doubt clung to her like the thick air of the tunnels. “Anyone can say that. Words don’t mean anything. Show me proof.”

For the first time, a flicker of something like impatience crossed the man’s face, but he concealed it quickly, offering a thin smile. “Proof?” He slowly reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small, silver insignia. It gleamed faintly in the dim light—a circular emblem marked with the crest of the High Council.

Ellie squinted at it, feeling her breath catch. She had seen that symbol before, on official documents and in stories, but to see it now, in his hands, made her heart stutter. It was unmistakable.

“This is my proof.” The man held the insignia out for her to inspect. “The seal of the High Council itself. Few are entrusted with this. And fewer still are sent to deliver personal offers.” He lowered his hand slightly, his gaze unyielding. “Does that satisfy your concerns?”

Ellie hesitated, her eyes flicking between the emblem and the man’s face. The insignia looked real. The way he carried himself, the authority in his voice—it all lined up. But still…

She slowly released the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I… I don’t know.”

The man’s expression softened again, and he returned the insignia to his pocket. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s understandable to be wary. But know this—if the Council wanted you gone, you wouldn’t have made it out of your room alive.”

Ellie’s stomach twisted. That wasn’t exactly comforting.

“I’m offering you safety,” he continued, his voice low and persuasive. “Protection, power, and a chance to understand your true potential. It’s your choice, of course. But think carefully.”

She swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on her. She wanted to run, to vanish back into the streets of Greymire and leave all of this behind. But she knew that wasn’t an option anymore.

The man’s gaze lingered on her, patient, calculating. “Take your time. But not too long.”

With that, he turned, leaving her in the dim tunnel, the weight of her decision pressing heavier than before.