There was no escape now.

Ellie sat in her chamber, a room so lavish it might have been pulled from the tales of distant queens. The soft tapestries, the stained glass that split sunlight into delicate hues, the velvet cushions—all mocked her unease. Every gilded detail—the gleaming chandelier, the silken drapes—felt like another bar in a cage closing around her. This was no refuge. It was a prison. And worse, a prison gilded with expectations.

In her trembling hands, she held a map of the northern borders. Jagged ink lines crossed the mountainous regions, marking where the dragon had been sighted. Her fingertips traced the rugged contours, the endless cliffs, the treacherous wilderness beyond the kingdom's reach. The map felt less like a guide and more like a death sentence.

"How am I supposed to survive this?" she whispered, the words barely audible, though they echoed louder in her mind. She had spent hours concocting strategies, desperate plans, anything to defy the king's decree. But each idea unraveled as quickly as she thought of it. There was no running. And facing the dragon?

Her breath caught in her throat. That was suicide.

A soft knock at the door startled her. Ellie flinched, quickly rolling up the map and shoving it aside as if hiding it might somehow conceal her fear. "Come in," she said, her voice tight, but controlled.

The door creaked open, and a young mage-in-training stepped inside. His robes, still too large for his lanky frame, swished as he entered. He bowed stiffly, eyes wide with awe, though whether it was for the grandeur of her chambers or for her reputation, she couldn’t tell. His hands were clasped awkwardly in front of him as he fidgeted like someone unused to court formalities.

"Lady Ellie," he began, voice thin with nervousness. "The preparations for your expedition are nearly complete. The adventurers’ guild is assembling a team as we speak, and some of the kingdom’s most skilled mages have volunteered to join you." His face brightened, flushed with excitement. "Everything is falling into place."

Ellie forced a smile, the weight of it pulling at her as if her face were made of stone. "That’s good to hear," she replied, her voice even, though his words twisted her insides into knots. "I’m grateful for their support."

The boy’s enthusiasm bubbled over. "Everyone’s talking about it! To think—you’ll go down in history as the one who slays the kingdom’s greatest foe." His eyes shone as he hesitated, then added softly, "I’ve heard stories about you for years, Lady Ellie. It’s an honor to be in your presence."

Her fingers tightened on the armrest of the chair, nails pressing into the soft wood. Honor. The word rang hollow in her ears. She had worn the legend of Ellie, the kingdom’s strongest mage, like a mask for so long that even she had almost started to believe it. But now, that mask was cracking.

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"You’re too kind," she said, pushing the words past the lump in her throat. "I only hope I can live up to the expectations."

"You will!" The boy’s smile widened. "You’re Lady Ellie, after all. The strongest mage in the kingdom!"

Her smile faltered, but he didn’t notice. He bowed again, his wide-eyed reverence untouched by doubt, and then hurried out, leaving the door to click shut behind him.

As soon as the latch caught, Ellie slumped back into her chair, the composure she had fought to maintain crumbling in an instant. Her grip on the armrests turned her knuckles white as the facade collapsed around her.

“They believe in me,” she whispered to the empty room, the words tasting like ash.

Ellie stood abruptly, pacing the length of the room like a caged animal. She had to think of something. A clever ruse, some stratagem that would free her from the impossible. Perhaps she could command from afar, direct others to face the dragon in her stead. But even as she considered it, she knew it was a feeble idea. Too many eyes were on her. Too many people watching, waiting for their hero to lead them into battle. Too many expectations.

The legend had grown too large, too monstrous. And now, it was consuming her.

She crossed to the window, leaning against the cold glass. Below, the palace grounds sprawled like a perfect illusion of peace. People moved about their duties like ants, unaware of the shadow looming over them all. The dragon.

And the lies she had let spiral out of control.

She had heard the whispers in the halls earlier. A few murmured words that coiled around her like poison.

"Did you hear?" one voice had hissed from the shadows of a corridor. "Lady Ellie is going to face the dragon at Dreadmoor Pass. They say she’ll slay it single-handedly."

"Of course she will," came the confident reply. "She’s the strongest mage since the Archmage disappeared. I heard she took down a band of mercenaries without lifting a finger!"

Ellie had walked faster, her heart racing, her skin prickling with the weight of their words. The expectations pressed against her like an iron cage, trapping her in a role she had never asked for.

Now, alone in her chamber, it was all too much. She collapsed onto the bed, staring up at the ornate ceiling that felt as distant as the stars. The room, once opulent, had become a suffocating prison. She could barely breathe beneath the crushing weight of the kingdom’s hopes.

"How did it come to this?" she whispered to herself. A few lucky victories, a handful of embellished stories, and suddenly, she was the kingdom’s greatest hero. Now they expected her to kill a dragon—a creature no one had ever faced and lived to tell the tale.

Her thoughts spiraled like a storm, dark and violent. Outside, the city buzzed with life—supplies were being gathered, soldiers prepared, and mages summoned. All under the belief that Ellie would lead them to victory.

But how could she lead them when she could barely hold herself together?

She sat up sharply, a cold shiver running down her spine. Panic surged again, cold and relentless. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps. She needed to escape, to find some way out.

“I have to get out of this,” she muttered, her voice trembling with the weight of her fear.

But no matter how many times she whispered it, the truth remained.

The dragon awaited. And there was no turning back.