The man's words hung in the air, a silken net that dropped over me and pinned me in place. *Trying to use a scrying spell on me, little mouse?*
My blood turned to ice. My carefully constructed persona of a simple, harmless tavern worker shattered in an instant. The System's alert blared in my mind: 'You have been detected!' It was a confirmation of my catastrophic failure. In my eagerness to gather information, to use the one unique tool I possessed, I had stumbled into the digital equivalent of poking a dragon with a stick.
Panic was a physical thing, a cold hand squeezing my heart. My first instinct was to run. My second was to manifest a [Firebolt] and go down fighting. Both were suicidal.
I fell back on the only defense I had left: plausible deniability.
"I… I don't know what you're talking about," I stammered, my voice sounding thin and reedy even to my own ears. I forced myself to meet his gaze, trying to project confusion instead of the raw terror I was feeling. "A scrying spell? I'm just delivering wine."
The silver-haired man, (Julius, as I would later learn his name was), let out a soft, appreciative chuckle. It was not a warm sound. It was the sound of a predator enjoying the futile struggle of its prey.
"Of course you are," he purred, taking another step closer. He was so close now I could see the intricate silver wire woven into the collar of his black leather armor. He smelled of cold night air and expensive cologne. "And I'm sure it was just a trick of the light that made it feel like someone was trying to peel back my soul like a grape. An honest mistake."
His winter-sky eyes roamed over me, and the feeling of being appraised intensified. It was a deeply invasive sensation, as if he could see the glowing blue interface of my status screen as clearly as I could.
"You're new to the city," he stated, not a question. "And yet, you carry a certain… charge. A scent." He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Like a summer storm. Like ozone after a lightning strike."
My breath hitched. Elara's exact words. It wasn't just a figure of speech, no... It was something perceptible to people with the right skills or senses. My magic, my secret, had a scent. And I had just walked into a kennel of bloodhounds.
"I think you and I are going to have a great deal to talk about, little mouse," Julius continued, his smile widening. "Perhaps you could tell me how a simple tavern girl learned such… interesting party tricks."
This was it. He was going to expose me, drag me off to this Mages' Guild, or simply slit my throat in an alleyway for the crime of looking at him funny. My hand twitched, a reflexive urge to gather mana.
"Julius."
The new voice was deep, calm, and carried an effortless authority that cut through the tension like a keen-edged blade. The entire Guild Hall, which I hadn't realized had gone quiet, seemed to exhale at once.
I looked past Julius' shoulder. A man had approached from the back of the hall. He was older, perhaps in his late fifties, with a neatly trimmed grey beard and a weathered, leathery face that spoke of countless hours under the sun and in the fray. He was broad-shouldered and wore practical, hardened leather armor over a simple tunic, a heavy longsword sheathed at his hip. He wasn't flashy like Julius, but the air of power around him was a solid, undeniable mountain to Julius' sharp, cold wind.
Julius didn't turn around, but his posture shifted. The predatory amusement in his eyes was replaced by a flicker of irritation. "Kaeya," he said, his voice losing its purr and gaining a harder edge. "Always spoiling my fun."
"My establishment, my rules," the man, Kaeya, the Guildmaster, said, his eyes on me. They were kind eyes, but tired, like he had seen too much. "And the first rule is you don't harass the staff of the businesses that keep us supplied with decent wine. Is there a problem here?"
"Just getting acquainted with the new delivery girl," Julius said smoothly, finally taking a step back from me. The release of pressure was so immense I felt dizzy. "She's full of surprises."
Kaeya's gaze lingered on me for a moment, and I had the distinct impression that he saw far more than a simple tavern worker. But unlike Julius, his scrutiny didn't feel violating. It felt… assessing. Like a master craftsman judging a piece of wood.
"The wine, I presume?" Kaeya asked, his attention shifting to the crate on the desk.
"Yes, Guildmaster," I managed to say, my voice trembling slightly. "From The Grinning Griffin."
"Excellent. Elara's taste is impeccable." He nodded to the scarred woman at the desk. "See that this is paid for, Rayna. And add a generous tip for the girl's trouble." He looked back at Julius. "Find a quest, find a drink, or find the door, Julius. Your choice."
Julius' smile was a razor's edge. He gave Kaeya a mock bow, then turned his chilling gaze back to me. He tapped two fingers to his temple in a mock salute.
"Until next time, little mouse," he whispered, and then he was gone, melting back into the crowd with that same unnatural silence, leaving me feeling like I'd just been marked.
I stood there, shaking, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Are you alright, lass?" Kaeya asked, his voice softer now.
"I… yes. Thank you, Guildmaster," I said.
"Julius has a habit of… testing people," Kaeya said with a sigh. "Pay him no mind. He's more hiss than bite, most days."
I seriously doubted that, but I wasn't about to argue. Rayna, the desk keeper, pushed a small, heavy pouch of coins across the desk towards me. The jingle of coin was a grounding sound.
"Your payment and tip," she grunted, her expression unreadable.
I took the pouch, my fingers fumbling. "Thank you."
"You best be off," Kaeya advised gently. "The Guild can be overwhelming for a first-timer."
I didn't need to be told twice. I gave the Guildmaster a grateful nod and practically fled the building, not looking back. The heavy oak door slammed shut behind me, and I leaned against the cold stone wall outside, taking deep, ragged breaths of the cool city air, trying to chase away the scent of ozone and the feeling of those icy blues eyes.
***
The walk back to the tavern was a blur. My mind replayed the encounter on a loop. *Observe Failed! Target's level is too high*, *You have been detected!*, Julius' predatory smile. The scent of my own magic. Elara's warning had been a dire prophecy, and I had fulfilled it within five minutes of stepping into the Guild.
When I pushed open the door to The Grinning Griffin, the familiar warmth and noise were a comforting balm. Leo was juggling mugs, Borin was yelling about the temperature of the oven, and Elara was standing behind the bar, her sharp eyes finding me the moment I stepped inside.
She saw my pale face and the tremor in my hands, and her expression hardened. She jerked her head towards the back room. An order.
I followed her into the storeroom, the door swinging shut behind us, muffling the tavern's din. The room was cool and smelled of grain and spices.
"Report," she commanded, her arms crossed.
I told her everything. I started with the delivery, the Quest Board, and the scarred woman at the desk. Then, my voice dropping, I described the silver-haired man, the failed [Observe] attempt, the detection, and his chilling words. I repeated his phrase, "the scent of ozone," and saw Elara's knuckles turn white where she gripped her arms.
When I finished with the Guildmaster's intervention, she was silent for a long time, her face a grim mask.
"Julius Vane," she finally said, her voice a low, dangerous growl. "I was afraid of this."
"You know him?" I asked.
"Everyone who has lived in Oakhaven for more than a year knows of the Shadow," she said, her eyes distant. "He's not an adventurer in the traditional sense. He's an information broker, a spy, and some say, an assassin for hire. He deals in secrets the way a merchant deals in grain. He's high-level, dangerously perceptive, and utterly without scruples. You couldn't have picked a worse person to stumble across."
She began to pace the small room, her boots thudding softly on the floorboards. "For him to notice you… to detect your scrying attempt… that means he's sensitive to magic, or has skills that specifically counter it. And he smelled your power on you. That's bad, Maddox. That's very bad."
"What does he want with me?" I whispered.
"Anything and everything," Elara said, stopping to face me. "He'll see you as a puzzle. An anomaly. An untrained elementalist with a strange energy signature. He'll want to know where you came from, what you can do, and how he can use it to his advantage. He will not let this go. He'll watch you."
The thought sent a fresh wave of ice through my veins. The city, my home, no longer felt safe. It felt like a cage, and a predator was now circling it.
"What do I do?" I asked, my voice betraying my fear.
Elara's expression softened for a fraction of a second. She saw not just the mage, but the scared young woman in front of her.
"First," she said, her voice firm, "you calm down. Fear is a luxury we can't afford. Second, you continue as you are. You work. You train. You get stronger. You give him nothing to see but a diligent dishwasher."
She stepped closer, her gaze intense. "But your training ground has to change. The cellar is safe, but it's a controlled environment. You need experience, real experience, fighting things that aren't blind, skittering bugs. You need to level up, and you need to do it fast. Power is the only currency men like Julius Vane truly respect. If you're too weak, you're a pawn. If you're strong enough, you become a player."
Her words resonated with the deepest parts of my being. It was the same conclusion I had been coming to. The encounter with Julius hadn't just scared me, it had infuriated me. He had called me a "little mouse." He had treated me like an amusing toy. I never wanted to feel that powerless again.
"The Quest Board," I said, my voice gaining strength. "I saw it. There was a posting. A goblin infestation in the old mines, east of the city."
Elara considered this, her brow furrowed. "The old silver mines? They've been abandoned for decades. A classic goblin breeding ground. It's a standard novice-tier quest. Dangerous, but straightforward. Goblins are weak, but they are numerous and cunning. It would be a true test."
"I need to go," I said, a new resolve hardening my fear into steel. "I can't get strong enough washing dishes and fighting cellar pests. I need to get out there. I need real experience." 'Also known as XP'.
Elara looked at me, truly looked at me, and a slow, grim smile touched her lips. "I knew there was a fire in you, girl. Not just the kind you conjure."
She walked over to a heavy, locked chest in the corner of the room. She produced a key from a chain around her neck and opened it. The chest contained old ledgers and what looked like personal mementos. From the very bottom, she pulled out a small, leather-wrapped object.
"When I was young," she said, her voice softening with memory, "I traveled a bit. Walked the adventurer's path for a time before I realized I was better at counting coins than cracking skulls."
She unwrapped the object. It was a simple, unadorned ring, forged from a dark, dull metal that seemed to absorb the light.
"This is a Ring of Obscurity," she said, holding it out to me. "It's a low-grade enchantment, but a useful one. It won't hide you from someone like Julius if he's actively looking for you, but it will dampen your magical signature. It might make you smell less like a lightning storm and more like a bit of static. It could give you the edge you need to not be noticed by every magically-sensitive creature or person you pass."
I took the ring. It was cool to the touch. I slid it onto the index finger of my right hand. It fit perfectly. I felt a subtle shift, like a thin veil had been draped over my aura.
[You have equipped [Ring of Obscurity] (Uncommon)!]
Effect: Dampens the user's magical aura, making it more difficult to detect by magical senses and scrying spells.
"Elara… I… thank you," I breathed, stunned by her generosity.
"Don't thank me. Survive," she said gruffly, locking the chest. "Go to the mines. Kill your goblins. Hone your skills. Become too strong to be a mouse. But be smart about it. Go prepared. I can spare you for a few days. Take a bedroll, some rations from the kitchen, and this." She reached into her coin pouch and pressed a few silver coins into my hand. "For supplies."
I looked from the ring on my finger to the coins in my palm, then to her stern, worried face. She had just invested in me, not as an employee, but as a person she wanted to see succeed.
"Now get out of my storeroom," she ordered, her gruff facade snapping back into place. "And if you die in some goblin-infested hole in the ground, I'm docking your final pay for the funeral expenses."
I couldn't help but smile. Back in my attic room, I laid out my meager supplies. The world had suddenly become much larger, and infinitely more dangerous. But for the first time, I had a clear path forward. I wasn't just training to survive anymore. I was training for a war, even if it was just my own. My quest wasn't just *Become the Strongest*. It was now *Become Strong Enough to Make the Shadows Fear Me.*