An Archmage Among Adventurers

The manor of Lord Ryven stood on a low hill just beyond Greymire, its pale stone walls rising against the dim gray of the autumn sky. Ellie’s steps felt heavy as she approached the gates, her heart sinking deeper with each step. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and distant rain, and the silence surrounding the manor seemed oppressive, as though the land itself held its breath in anticipation.

The guards at the entrance recognized her immediately—of course they did. The rumors had reached even here, the stories of Ellie Liddell, the adventurer who needed no display of magic, whose very restraint was a mark of her power. They bowed and opened the gates without a word, their eyes filled with quiet reverence, which only made Ellie’s unease grow.

One of the guards caught her eye and offered a small smile. “We’ve been expecting you, Miss Liddell. His lordship won’t keep you waiting.”

Ellie nodded stiffly. “I hope not.”

Inside, the manor was as grand as she feared. Marble floors stretched out beneath arched ceilings, and tapestries of rich greens and golds adorned the walls, their intricate patterns hinting at old, forgotten histories. She was led through a series of corridors, each more ornate than the last, until finally, she stood before the doors of the great hall.

The doors creaked open, and Ellie found herself face to face with Lord Ryven.

He was tall, with a gaunt frame wrapped in dark, formal robes. His sharp features and pale skin gave him a ghostly appearance, though his eyes, deep-set and gleaming with cold intelligence, were very much alive. His presence was not one of warmth or welcome but of command—he exuded the quiet authority of a man who had learned to wield power with words rather than force.

“Lady Liddell,” Lord Ryven greeted, his voice smooth, as though they were old acquaintances. “I’m honored you’ve answered my invitation. Please, sit.”

Ellie hesitated, then crossed the room and lowered herself into the chair opposite him. The great hall felt too large, the space between them filled with an invisible weight. She could feel her palms growing damp, the familiar anxiety rising within her, but she masked it with a faint smile.

Lord Ryven leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving her. “I’ve heard much about you. Your... recent accomplishments have stirred quite a bit of attention.”

Ellie nodded stiffly, unsure how to respond. There was a long pause, during which she could feel the weight of his scrutiny, as though he were trying to unravel her just by looking.

“The region,” he continued, “has been plagued by a growing threat. A ruin in the foothills—an ancient place, long thought dormant—has become active again. Strange creatures, twisted by old magics, have begun to emerge. Some say the ruin itself is awakening.”

Ellie felt a chill run down her spine. She didn’t need to be a decent mage to recognize the danger in Lord Ryven’s words. Ancient ruins with forgotten magics were the kind of places that swallowed adventurers whole. She could already see herself, stumbling into the dark with no idea of what she was facing, her meager spells evaporating in the face of real power.

But before she could gather her thoughts to respond, Lord Ryven continued. “I need someone with... discretion. Someone who knows how to handle such matters carefully. The ruin’s magic is unpredictable, and a frontal assault would be foolish.”

Ellie blinked, surprised. It sounded almost as if he were suggesting caution, a welcome relief from the usual bravado she had come to expect from adventurers. But something in the way he looked at her, that expectant gleam in his eye, made her wary. Was this another trap of expectations, waiting for her to step into it?

She cleared her throat, trying to buy herself a moment to think. “Well... it seems like a situation that would need... care,” she said slowly. “Rushing in blindly could trigger... unintended consequences. Perhaps a... cautious approach would be best. We could—”

“Exactly!” Lord Ryven interrupted, his voice rising in sudden enthusiasm. “I knew you would see it. Your reputation for strategy is well-earned, Lady Liddell.”

Ellie’s stomach dropped. Strategy? She had been trying to find the safest way to avoid the whole thing altogether, but it seemed her words had been taken as something far more deliberate. Lord Ryven was looking at her now with a renewed intensity, as though she had confirmed some great insight he already held about her.

“Yes.” He leaned back in his chair, a satisfied look settling on his face. “A measured approach. You would take the lead, of course, guiding the others through the ruin. Your... knowledge of magic and its workings would be invaluable.”

Ellie stared at him, her mind racing. Lead? Through an ancient, cursed ruin? The words rang hollow in her ears, as though she were hearing them from a great distance. She could barely handle simple spells, let alone guide an expedition into the heart of some forgotten power.

But Lord Ryven was watching her with such confidence, such certainty, that the very thought of refusing seemed impossible. “I... yes, but we should be careful. We don’t know what kind of magic we’re dealing with.”

Lord Ryven nodded thoughtfully. “Precisely. And that is why I trust you, Lady Liddell. Only someone with your... restraint, your understanding of the deeper forces at play, can approach this task with the wisdom it requires.”

Ellie forced another smile, her heart pounding in her chest. She could feel the walls closing in around her again, the weight of her false reputation pressing down like a storm cloud. How had she ended up here, tangled in a web of expectations she had never wanted to weave?

Lord Ryven stood, signaling the end of their conversation. “I’ll make the necessary preparations. Tomorrow, at dawn, we will send for you. I have no doubt that this matter will be resolved swiftly, under your capable leadership.”

Ellie rose shakily to her feet, her thoughts a whirl of dread and disbelief. She gave a polite nod, excusing herself as quickly as she could without seeming rude. The moment she stepped out of the manor, the cold evening air hit her like a slap, and she sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“How am I going to survive this?” The question echoed in her mind as she made her way back to Greymire, the weight of her unwanted role heavier than ever.