Ellie stood on the balcony of the Academy’s highest tower, the wind pulling at her robes and tangling her hair into messy curls. Below, the sprawling courtyards of the Mage Academy spread out like a patchwork quilt, each garden and fountain arranged with precise, arcane geometry that she still didn’t fully understand.
It was peaceful up here, far above the bustle of the scholars and novices going about their morning routines. For a moment, Ellie closed her eyes, letting the crisp air fill her lungs, savoring the quiet. She knew it wouldn’t last.
A door swung open behind her, and Elladora’s voice cut through the stillness like the snap of a whip, though her tone was cheerful. “There you are, dear Elnora. Or Ellie, rather. Though I do think you should embrace your true name—it has a much grander ring to it, don’t you think?”
Ellie turned to find Elladora leaning casually against the doorframe, cradling a cup of steaming coffee in one hand. Her robes—deep green, embroidered with golden sigils that shimmered subtly—seemed less formal on her, as if she wore them out of habit rather than respect. She took a long sip, her eyes glinting with that same mischievous amusement Ellie had come to expect.
Ellie folded her arms, trying to maintain an air of composure. “I prefer Ellie.” She ignored the unease that still came whenever Elladora used her real name. “And why did you want to see me up here?”
Elladora shrugged, stepping onto the balcony and gesturing expansively toward the view. “I thought you might appreciate a change of scenery. Too many of the students down there believe wisdom is best found in dusty books and dark corners. But up here, it’s easier to see the big picture.”
Ellie arched a brow. “Is that your way of saying you wanted an excuse to avoid the council meeting?”
Elladora grinned, a bright, unapologetic expression. “Why, yes. They can discuss their petty concerns without me for a morning, don’t you think? After all, they’ve been doing so for the last few years while I was... otherwise occupied.” She took another sip of her coffee, her smile turning sly. “But that brings us to a more pressing matter. You.”
Ellie’s stomach tightened. “Me?”
“Yes, you, my dear. You’ve become quite the figure of fascination around here.” Elladora set her cup down on the stone railing and studied Ellie with a look that made her feel as if she were some curious new species of insect. “And besides, I think we might enjoy each other’s company. At least, I’m certain I will.”
Ellie frowned, struggling to keep up with Elladora’s zigzagging logic. “Special advisor? What does that even mean?”
Elladora waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, I haven’t the faintest idea. But it sounds official, doesn’t it? And it means you get to stay here with me—rather than, say, getting shipped off to some dreary estate to preside over regional disputes like a good little hero. We can’t have you running off to obscurity, not when things are finally getting interesting again.”
Ellie swallowed back a retort, biting down on her frustration. “I thought you weren’t interested in titles or responsibilities.”
“True,” Elladora conceded with a slight tilt of her head. “But even I find that some structure has its uses. Consider it a partnership, of sorts. I’ll teach you what I know about the... more esoteric aspects of magic, and in return, you’ll keep me entertained. And, of course, you’ll lend that air of heroism that the council so desperately craves whenever they need it.”
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Ellie pressed her lips together, glancing out over the city. “What if I don’t want to be your special advisor?” she asked quietly.
Elladora let out a soft laugh, the sound rolling through the air like a warm breeze. “Then don’t think of it as an obligation, dear. Think of it as an opportunity. Or think of it as a diversion, if that’s easier. There’s much you could learn here—far more than you would in some remote village where they want you to bless the crops and shake hands with the local baron.”
Ellie’s jaw tightened. She could see the glimmer of challenge in Elladora’s eyes, and the truth behind her words stung. She did want to learn more—wanted to understand the magic that had coursed through her, the relic that had almost consumed her, the forces she had only glimpsed in the heat of battle.
But the thought of staying here, under Elladora’s watchful eye, filled her with a discomfort she couldn’t quite name.
Elladora seemed to sense her hesitation. She picked up her coffee again, taking a leisurely sip, her gaze drifting out toward the horizon. “It’s not as though I’ll chain you to a desk and force you to recite incantations, you know. I have little patience for that kind of teaching.”
She made a face, as if the very thought offended her. “Formal magical theory is dreadfully dull, and I never much cared for memorizing the dry old formulas. Magic is meant to be felt, not dissected.”
Ellie couldn’t help but give a faint, skeptical smile. “And what exactly do you mean by that?”
Elladora’s expression softened, becoming almost wistful. “I mean that magic is alive, Ellie. It breathes. It flows. It’s not something you can cage in runes or diagrams. Those things are tools, useful in their way, but they aren’t the whole of it. If you stay, I’ll show you what I mean.”
Ellie glanced back at her, a shiver running through her despite the warmth of the sun on her face. There was a sincerity in Elladora’s voice that caught her off guard—a hint of something deeper beneath the archmage’s playful mask.
She felt a strange stirring of curiosity, mingling with the unease in her chest. Perhaps there was more to Elladora than she had assumed.
Elladora’s smile turned sharper again, as if sensing Ellie’s wavering. “Of course, my lessons will be on my terms, at my pace. And there will be breaks. Lots of them. You’d be amazed how much magic one can master over a pot of coffee. But then again, maybe you’d prefer Kolvin’s approach—lectures on the proper way to align one’s sigils while he drones on for hours about energy conservation.”
Ellie let out a breath, feeling a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “All right, I’ll stay. As your... special advisor.”
Elladora beamed, a gleam of triumph flashing in her eyes. “Splendid! I knew you had a sense of adventure somewhere in there. Now, to celebrate—there’s a delightful little café hidden in the Old Quarter. They make the best cinnamon pastries. And it just so happens that they owe me a favor.”
Ellie blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic. “Wait, you want to go now?”
Elladora was already heading for the stairs, her cloak fluttering behind her like the tail of a mischievous cat. “Why not? The council will spend the next few hours arguing over who gets to draft the formal decree of your appointment, and I see no reason to waste such a lovely morning on bureaucracy. Come along, dear Ellie. You might as well enjoy the perks of your new position.”
Ellie hesitated, casting one last glance over the rooftops of the city, then sighed and followed, her steps echoing against the stone. She had no idea what she was getting herself into—only that it would be unpredictable, maddening, and likely far more dangerous than she cared to admit.
But as she descended the stairs with Elladora, the other woman’s laughter ringing in her ears, she couldn’t help feeling a strange thrill run through her, a sense of possibility she hadn’t felt in a long time. Perhaps that would be enough to make this partnership worthwhile.
She just hoped she could keep up.