By the time the capital’s walls rose in the distance, Ellie could hear the hum—a low, constant murmur like the distant roar of the ocean. At first, she thought it was just the wind, carrying the city’s usual bustle. But as they drew closer, the sound grew louder, more distinct. It was the clamor of hundreds—no, thousands—of voices. Not just noise, but a chant, rising in waves from the city gates, crashing against the walls like a living thing.

Her stomach churned.

Crowds filled the streets, overflowing from the market squares and alleys, a sea of faces pressed together, surging toward them. Banners whipped in the wind, the bright colors of the kingdom’s crest snapping against the midday sky. But it wasn’t the banners that set her pulse racing. It was the sound that wrapped around her, suffocating and inescapable.

Her name.

“Ellie! Ellie!”

The chant swelled, a thousand voices bound together like a war hymn. Her heart skipped, panic clawing at the edges of her mind.

She shifted in the saddle, uneasy. This wasn’t the welcome of a city. It was something else. The legend—the story of what had happened in that cave—was spiraling out of control. Days ago, she had staggered through the dragon’s lair, bloodied and barely alive. And now… now they hailed her as some kind of savior.

She glanced down at Haldor, who walked beside her horse, his broad frame casting a long shadow across the cobblestones. His face remained impassive, but she saw the faintest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“They think I’m a hero,” she muttered, her voice barely audible beneath the roar of the crowd.

Haldor’s eyes slid toward her, a glint of something unreadable there. “Breathe, lass,” he said softly, his tone calm as ever. “It’s all part of the game.”

“The game,” she echoed, the word bitter on her tongue. She swallowed, trying to focus on the rhythmic clop of hooves against stone. But the chant crashed over her again, louder, more insistent. Her grip tightened on the reins. How long could she keep playing before the game devoured her whole?

Ahead, the city gates groaned open, revealing streets packed with bodies and lined with banners. Trumpets blared, a sharp, piercing sound that made her flinch. Flowers rained down from the windows above, their petals catching in her hair, drifting lazily on the breeze. She stared at the faces below—wide-eyed, smiling faces. Children perched on shoulders, waving. Men and women reaching up as if she were some goddess descending from the heavens.

Her breath quickened. Her skin prickled with dread.

“I don’t want this,” she whispered, the words barely forming.

Haldor, ever attuned to her, leaned closer. “It’s overwhelming, aye. But better to ride the wave than drown under it.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

She forced a nod, but her heart wasn’t in it. Her gaze darted around the square, to the narrow alleyways between the buildings. Maybe—just maybe—she could slip away. Fade into the crowd. A sudden illness, an excuse. She could vanish into the depths of the city until they forgot her name.

But even as the thought crossed her mind, she knew it was pointless. Her name was already too big, too heavy. There was no outrunning it now.

Behind her, the other adventurers basked in the crowd’s adulation, waving and smiling like conquering champions. But Ellie? She felt none of it. Only a tightening, a suffocating knot in her chest as the crowd’s chant grew louder, vibrating in her bones.

“Ellie! Ellie!”

Her name thundered through the streets as they neared the palace square. It pressed down on her, each shout adding another weight to the burden she carried. She leaned down, her voice barely a breath as she whispered to Haldor, “Do you ever wonder what happens when they realize the truth?”

His eyes flickered, a faint glimmer of amusement in the lines of his weathered face. “They won’t. That’s the thing about legends,” he said. “It stopped being about the truth the moment they started believing it.”

She stared at him, trying to grasp what that meant. The streets grew narrower, the crowds pushing closer. Hands reached out, grazing her boots, tugging at her cloak, and she fought the urge to shrink back. Her name, her legend, had become something monstrous—something alive, with a will of its own.

“I’m no hero,” she muttered again, more to herself than anyone else.

Haldor’s reply was cold, matter-of-fact. “And yet here you are.”

The palace loomed ahead, its marble spires piercing the sky like blades. At the center of the square, a grand platform had been erected. Nobles stood on the steps, shimmering in silks and gold, their eyes fixed on her. At the top, the king awaited, his robes flowing like water as he held his arms wide in welcome.

Her pulse roared in her ears.

“Haldor, I can’t—”

“You can,” he interrupted, his voice firm, unyielding. “You have to. It’s already done.”

The horse stopped, and the crowd exploded into cheers. She dismounted, legs trembling beneath her, and stumbled, catching herself at the last second. Haldor gave her a sharp look, a silent warning: Don’t falter, lass. They’re watching.

She straightened, but every step felt like a weight dragging her down. The air was thick, suffocating, as if the crowd’s eyes were a physical force pushing against her. The cheering, the banners, the flowers—it all blurred together, an overwhelming storm of expectation. She wanted to scream, to tear off the mask they had forced on her and run, disappear into the alleyways where no one would find her.

But instead, she walked. One step, then another.

Haldor’s voice drifted to her through the noise. “You’re in it now. Just keep moving.”

Her hand gripped the railing as she climbed the platform, knuckles white. The king stepped forward, his face split into a beaming smile as he called out to the crowd, “Ellie of Greymire! Slayer of dragons, savior of our kingdom!”

The roar that followed shook the ground, and Ellie flinched at the force of it. The king extended his hand toward her, beckoning her forward.

Her hands trembled. She forced them into fists to stop the shaking.

She took another step, then another. The crowd’s chant reached a fever pitch, their voices deafening. Haldor’s words echoed in her mind as she reached the king’s outstretched hand.

“This is the game we play.”

And in that moment, standing there with the eyes of the world on her, Ellie understood the horrible truth.

There was no escape. The legend had already swallowed her whole.