Fame did not arrive like thunder.
It came in small noises, scattered whispers, glances that lasted half a second longer than they should. I began to notice this early in the morning, when we left the mansion to take care of simple matters in the city. Nothing official. Nothing related to the guild. Just ordinary tasks.
Even so, something was different.
People did not move away in fear. They also did not approach with excitement. They observed. Measured. Tried to recognize.
A woman whispered something to her husband as we passed. A merchant interrupted his own speech when he saw us. A group of apprentice adventurers fell completely silent for a few seconds.
"They know," Elara murmured.
"They know something," I corrected. "Not exactly everything."
Vespera walked with her usual posture, indifferent. Liriel seemed more uncomfortable, keeping her hood slightly lowered.
"I don't like this," she said quietly. "It's like we're being evaluated all the time."
"We are," I replied. "But that's not new. It just became visible."
We entered a small tavern, far from the busiest areas. The place was usually noisy, but the sound dropped as soon as we crossed the door. It didn't stop. It just changed tone.
We sat at a table in the back. The owner approached too quickly.
"What will you have?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
"Simple food," Elara replied. "And light drink."
He nodded several times and hurried away.
"This is irritating," she added, resting her elbow on the table.
"It will get worse," Vespera said. "The story is still being shaped."
Liriel frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Each person tells it in a different way. Each version exaggerates a different detail. Soon, we will no longer be people. We will be incomplete legends."
The food arrived. It was good, but no one commented. Everyone was attentive to the environment. To the looks. To the whispers that appeared and disappeared.
At a nearby table, two men spoke in a low but audible tone.
"He's the one who killed the general," said one.
"I heard there were four. One of them used ancient magic."
"They say the leader doesn't bleed."
I swallowed dryly.
"Doesn't bleed?" Elara whispered, incredulous.
"Look on the bright side," I murmured. "They could say I fly."
Vespera did not laugh. "These rumors shape expectations. Expectations kill."
After we left the tavern, the atmosphere grew heavier. Not because of immediate danger, but because of the invisible change in the world around us.
In the central square, a group of soldiers were talking. One of them clearly recognized us and straightened his posture. He didn't come over. He just watched.
"They know who we are," Liriel said.
"They know who they think we are," I replied.
We returned to the mansion in the late afternoon. The gate closed behind us with a hollow sound. For the first time, I felt that the building was not just shelter. It was a barrier.
Inside, the silence felt denser.
"This is going to distance us from ordinary people," Elara said, walking through the room. "I hate this."
"It doesn't have to," I replied. "We just need to choose how to react."
Vespera crossed her arms. "Fame is a weapon. It can be used or it can explode in your hands."
Liriel sat on the sofa, thoughtful. "I don't want to be seen as something distant. I don't want them to be afraid."
I sat in front of her. "You don't control what they feel. Only what you do."
At night, we received an unexpected visit. A messenger from the guild. Polite, too formal.
"There are requests for interviews," he said. "And requests for audiences. The council wants to organize how the group will be presented publicly."
"Presented?" Elara repeated.
"Yes. To avoid distorted versions."
I exchanged a look with Vespera. She nodded slightly.
"Tell the council we will go tomorrow," I replied. "But under our conditions."
The messenger seemed relieved and left.
When the door closed, the silence returned.
"So this is it," Elara said. "Now we're a problem to be managed."
"Or a symbol," Liriel replied.
"Or both," I added.
I went to the bedroom later than usual. I lay down, but sleep took time. My mind was full of voices I didn't know, stories I didn't live, expectations I never asked for.
I closed my eyes and thought about the square, the taverns, the curious looks.
The world was beginning to watch us.
And that meant one clear thing.
We could no longer make mistakes in silence.
Every decision, every step, every failure… everything would be seen, told, and reinterpreted.
The calm still existed, but now it had eyes.
And I knew, deep down, that when a name starts to circulate, it never goes back to being just a name.
It becomes a weight.
And a target.