An Archmage Among Adventurers

Morning crept into Greymire with a dull, colorless light. Ellie had barely slept. The bed in the small rented room was as rough as the stone walls around it, but it wasn’t discomfort that kept her awake. It was the weight of all the expectations she had felt pressing in on her the night before.

She had fled the guild hall to avoid more questions, but escaping from the weight of others' perceptions was proving to be a far more difficult task.

She dressed quickly, pulling on the worn clothes of Ellie Liddell—the mage she had created for herself. The rough wool cloak still smelled faintly of the forest from her journey here, and the simple tunic and trousers offered no hint of the noble blood she was trying to leave behind.

“Did you hear about the job at Blackstone Keep?” a burly man’s voice rose above the chatter. “They say the place is crawling with bandits!”

“Bandits? Or just a bunch of frightened farmers with pitchforks?” A woman laughed. “I’ll take the pitchforks; at least they’re not trying to stab you in the back!”

Ellie kept her head down, trying to blend into the bustling crowd, but she caught snippets of conversation that made her heart race.

“Who’s that in the corner? Looks like she’s hiding something,”

“Not sure. Might be a good target for a job, though.”

Ellie quickened her pace, making her way toward the exit. Each step brought a renewed sense of urgency; she had to find a way to navigate this world without drawing too much attention. But as she neared the large wooden door, a familiar voice caught her ear.

“Missing since yesterday morning.” The guild registrar was saying, her voice low but commanding. She stood at the far end of the hall, her quill in hand as she spoke to a small group of adventurers. Ellie paused, her fingers resting on the door’s iron latch.

“It was supposed to be a simple scouting mission,” the registrar continued. “But he hasn’t returned. His team is requesting assistance for a rescue.”

A few murmurs passed through the gathered group, and Ellie found herself drifting closer, her curiosity prickling against her better judgment. She wasn’t the only one listening—other adventurers had paused their tasks, their eyes and ears turning toward the conversation.

The registrar continued, her voice calm but grave. “We need someone to go after him. The area is north of here, near the old mines. Not too dangerous, but we can’t risk sending a novice alone.”

Ellie’s heart quickened. The north—the mines. She had heard it was a place where magic still clung to the rocks, where strange things had been seen in the night. Her stomach twisted at the thought of it. Dangerous or not, it was far beyond what she could manage with her pitiful magic.

One of the adventurers stepped forward—a burly man with scars across his forearms, the kind of man who had clearly faced worse than a missing adventurer. “I’ll go.”

The registrar nodded. “Good. You’ll need at least two others to join you. Who’s willing?”

Ellie took a step back, retreating toward the shadows near the door, her pulse hammering in her throat. She had no business in a rescue mission. It wasn’t just fear—though the fear was there, tight and cold—it was the knowledge that she couldn’t help them. Her magic wouldn’t save anyone, least of all herself. She just needed to stay quiet, slip away before anyone could—

“Ellie Liddell.”

The voice cut through the air like a blade, sharp and clear. Ellie froze, her hand still on the latch. Slowly, reluctantly, she turned. The burly adventurer was staring at her, his brow furrowed in thought.

“I saw you at the hall last night,” he said, his voice as steady as his gaze. “You’re a mage, right? You should join us.”

Ellie felt her throat close up. She could feel the eyes of the room turning toward her, the weight of curiosity and expectation settling on her like a cloak too heavy to bear. She opened her mouth, grasping for an excuse, but nothing came. The silence stretched.

“We could use a mage on this mission.” The registrar’s eyes flicked toward her, calm but assessing. “Someone with experience.”

Ellie’s heart pounded in her ears. Experience. The word tasted bitter. She had no experience—certainly not in the kind of magic they imagined she wielded. But what could she say?

If she refused now, if she backed out after the display she’d made the night before, it would raise questions. Suspicion. The kind she couldn’t afford.

She swallowed hard. Her mind raced, grasping for any way out, but there was none. She had already painted herself into a corner, and now the only way forward was through it.

“All right,” she said, her voice quiet but steady enough. “I’ll come.”

The words hung in the air, solid and final. The burly adventurer nodded, clearly pleased with her decision. “Good. We leave at midday. Meet us here.”

Ellie nodded, though her heart was a storm of panic beneath the calm facade she wore. She had bought herself a little more time—time to think, to figure out how she could possibly survive this without revealing the truth. But for now, the act had to continue.

As the adventurers returned to their preparations, Ellie slipped out of the guildhall, the cold morning air biting at her face. She took a deep breath, leaning against the stone wall of the building, her hands trembling despite herself.

A rescue mission. What had she gotten herself into?

The town of Greymire seemed smaller now, the streets closing in around her as if the walls themselves were aware of her deception. She had wanted to lay low, to disappear into the shadows of this place, but it seemed the shadows had a way of pulling her deeper instead.

Now, she would have to face whatever was waiting in the north—and find a way to keep her secret intact.