Hero Of Broken History

Sleep came reluctantly, dragging Avian down into memories that weren't memories, weren't quite dreams.

The throne room. But wrong. Walls that breathed. Blood that fell upward. The Demon King's face shifting between beast and man and something else entirely.

"Your soul is cursed."

The words came from everywhere and nowhere. Was it the Demon King speaking? His own voice? Someone else entirely, wearing familiar vocal cords?

Why do I remember this now? Why these words?

The dream fractured, reformed. He was Dex, raising Fargrim. He was watching Dex, from somewhere outside. He was—

"Oh my, how your soul is worn out."

A woman's voice. No, the Demon King's. No, something older. The words layered like sediment, each repetition adding weight.

"How many times have you died for them?"

His own laugh, or was it? Bitter as spoiled wine. "Once. Arrow through the heart. Betrayed by—"

"Again and again and again."

The scene shattered. Reformed. The Demon King dying, trying to speak. Its mouth moved, forming a word, a name, something important—

But the sound was stolen. In its place, a sensation like coming home to a house he'd never seen. Recognition without memory. Truth without context.

More fragments swirled. A woman with eyes like starlight saying "the chains must break from within." His own voice screaming words in a language that predated human speech. Vaerin's face, tears streaming, mouth moving in apology or prayer or—

Avian jerked awake, heart hammering, that phantom name dissolving like smoke. Something critical had been there, dancing at the edge of comprehension, but now...

Gone. But it felt important. Felt like a key to—

Lux stirred on his finger, sending comfort through their bond. The spirit's presence grounded him, pulled him from the edge of something vast and terrible. Morning light filtered through the window - he'd slept later than intended.

"Finally awake?" Kai sat at the small table, surrounded by papers and looking entirely too pleased with himself. "Good. I've been thinking."

"Dangerous habit," Avian muttered, sitting up and rubbing his face. The dream fragments still clung like cobwebs.

"So I couldn't sleep last night. Got me thinking about our merchant friend and his obsession with your sword." Kai shuffled through his papers. "We need more information before we do anything drastic."

"Oh?"

"Think about it. We're two barely-trained nobles in a city full of mysteries. That's not brave, it's stupid." Kai leaned back. "But you know who regularly goes into dangerous, unexplored places and comes back alive?"

"Adventurers," Avian said, seeing where this was going.

"Exactly! The Adventurer's Guild has resources, information, legal authority to explore dangerous ruins." Kai grinned. "Plus, I want to see how monsters outside the trials fight. The forest was one thing, but what about the everyday creatures adventurers face?"

Monsters. Haven't fought proper monsters in... well, five hundred years. Wonder if they've evolved new ways to try killing people.

"You want us to register as adventurers," Avian said slowly. "Build experience, gather information, then tackle any mysteries when we're better prepared."

"See? You get it. Plus, adventurers have access to Guild archives. Bet they have records about pre-Empire ruins that aren't in public libraries."

It made sense. Too much sense for Kai's usual plans.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. Well, besides the usual 'might die fighting monsters' thing." Kai stood, gathering his papers. "The Guild hall is in the merchant quarter. We could register today, maybe even take a simple contract to test ourselves."

Avian considered. The dream still bothered him - those words about cursed souls and endless deaths. But sitting around brooding wouldn't provide answers. And he was curious about how monsters had changed over the centuries.

"Fine. But we're starting with something manageable. No heroics."

"Me? Heroics?" Kai clutched his chest in mock offense. "I'm the picture of caution and reasonable decision-making."

"That's what worries me."

They dressed in practical clothes - leather and cloth that could take some damage. Avian made sure Fargrim was secure but accessible, while Kai armed himself with several concealed blades.

The Adventurer's Guild occupied a massive building that had clearly been expanded multiple times over the centuries. The original stone structure was swallowed by wooden additions, extra floors, and architectural decisions that prioritized function over form.

"Busy," Kai observed as they approached.

He wasn't wrong. Adventurers of every stripe crowded the entrance - grizzled veterans comparing scars, fresh-faced rookies trying to look tough, and everything in between. The noise was incredible - shouted conversations, clanking armor, and from somewhere inside, what sounded like a brawl.

"Welcome to the Adventurer's Guild!" A cheerful voice cut through the chaos. A young woman in guild uniform materialized beside them, professional smile firmly in place. "First time?"

"That obvious?" Avian asked.

"Clean clothes, nervous energy, looking at everything like it might bite." Her smile became more genuine. "I'm Clara, junior receptionist. Here to register?"

"I'm not nervous," Avian said, tone serious. The assumption pricked at his warrior's pride.

"Heh, okayyy." Kai's grin widened at Avian's reaction. "Anyway, we're here to register as adventurers."

"If the process doesn't involve whatever's happening in there," Kai added, gesturing toward the sounds of combat.

"Oh, that's just the Bronzers settling a dispute about loot distribution. Happens every Fourthday." Clara led them around the chaos with practiced ease. "New registrations are handled in the side office. Much quieter."

The registration office was indeed quieter, though "quiet" was relative. Only a dozen people waited in line, and the sounds of violence were muffled by thick doors.

"Basic registration is simple," Clara explained, handing them forms. "Name, age, combat experience, any magical abilities. There's a practical test, but nothing too strenuous."

Avian filled out his form carefully. Name: Avian Veritas. Age: 12. Combat experience: Formal training. Magical abilities: None.

All lies except the name and age. But 'I have memories of killing demon generals' probably wouldn't go over well.

Kai was similarly creative with his truth. They handed the forms back to Clara, who scanned them with professional efficiency.

"Twelve?" She looked at Avian more carefully, taking in his height and build. "You look eighteen! There's no way you're twelve with that kind of body."

"Growth spurt," Avian said flatly. "Runs in the family."

Six months of breaking myself repeatedly will do that. But explaining that would raise more questions.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"Some growth spurt," Clara muttered, but marked the form. "Well, age is just a number in this business. If you can fight, you can fight. Right this way."

She led them deeper into the building, past offices and what looked like a medical ward. The sounds of daily guild business surrounded them - arguments about contracts, debates over monster classifications, someone loudly insisting that slimes were actually the most dangerous enemy.

"Here we are." Clara opened a door to reveal a small arena. "Guildmaster Hansen will conduct your evaluation."

The man waiting for them looked like he'd been carved from solid disappointment. Scars covered every visible inch of skin, one eye was clearly glass, and his expression suggested he'd already found them wanting.

"Noble brats," he growled. "Clara says you want to play adventurer."

"We want to be adventurers," Kai corrected. "There's a difference."

"Is there?" Hansen circled them like a predator. "Most nobles think adventuring is exciting. Glory and gold and grateful villagers. Reality is mud, blood, and things trying to eat your face."

"Sounds familiar," Avian said mildly.

Hansen's good eye focused on him. "You've fought before. Not tournament shit. Real fighting."

"Some."

"Hmm." The guildmaster moved to a weapon rack. "Rules are simple. Land a hit on me, you pass. Get knocked unconscious, you fail. Try not to die."

"Both of us at once?" Kai asked.

"Did I stutter?"

Well, this should be interesting. Wonder if he's actually good or just scarred.

Hansen selected a practice sword - blunt but still capable of damage. He took a basic stance, looking bored.

"Whenever you're ready, children."

The dismissive tone snapped something in Avian. The constant underestimation, the assumption of weakness because of his apparent age - it grated against every battle-hardened instinct.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Avian's voice dropped to something dangerous. "Just because you think you're strong doesn't mean you are. You're weak. That's a fact."

Hansen blinked, then laughed. "Kid's got a mouth on him. Alright, brat. Show me what—"

Avian moved.

Not with his full speed - that would have been suspicious. But with the perfect timing of someone who'd read Hansen's stance, predicted his response, and acted accordingly. The practice sword Hansen had been lazily holding suddenly wasn't where it needed to be. Avian's blade touched the guildmaster's ribs before the man could complete his first parry.

"—you've got," Hansen finished, looking down at the sword against his side with genuine surprise.

Being a child fucking sucks. Everyone thinks you're weak. Have to constantly prove otherwise.

Kai stood to the side, trying not to smirk. He'd seen Avian fight in the tournament, knew there was more beneath the surface. Interesting vocabulary though - not typical noble language. But then again, Avian wasn't typical anything.

"Huh." Hansen stepped back, reassessing. "Lucky shot. Let's do it again. This time I want to see how strong you really are. No holding back."

"Kai, step back," Avian said. "Don't interfere or I'll send you home."

"Whatever you say," Kai replied, moving to the wall. Poor Hansen. He has no idea what he just asked for.

Hansen took a proper stance this time, no longer dismissive. "Ready when you are, boy."

Avian let his aura flare to Grandmaster level. The air in the small arena grew heavy, pressing down with the weight of controlled violence.

"What the fuck?" Hansen said audibly, eyes widening as he felt the pressure.

Now Kai understood what Aedric meant by god-touched genius. This wasn't just talent or hard training. This was something fundamental, something that shouldn't exist in a twelve-year-old body.

But then Hansen's expression shifted from shock to assessment. "Grandmaster rank," he muttered, circling more carefully now. "But weak for it. First stage, barely consolidated. Still..." He shook his head. "Most people who reach Grandmaster die at first stage. The gap between stages is wider than all the previous ranks combined."

He continued his evaluation, practice sword held more respectfully. "Five stages to Grandmaster rank. Each one's a mountain to climb. I've seen warriors spend forty years stuck at first stage." His scarred face showed grudging respect. "But at twelve? That's not talent. That's something else entirely."

"You seem to know a lot about it for someone at Master rank," Kai observed.

Hansen barked a laugh. "Master rank aura, boy. But I've survived thirty years of adventuring. You learn to recognize power levels real quick when your life depends on it. My aura's nothing special, but—" He shifted his stance, and suddenly his presence felt heavier, more solid. "Experience and muscle memory count for more than raw power sometimes."

They clashed properly this time. Hansen was good - decades of experience, solid high-level Knight equivalent. He moved with the efficiency of a survivor, every strike calculated.

For the first minute, Avian dominated. His technique was flawless, movements refined by lifetimes of combat Hansen couldn't imagine. The guildmaster found himself giving ground, struggling against pressure that shouldn't come from someone half his size.

But Hansen hadn't survived decades of adventuring by giving up. He adapted, started using what Avian couldn't match - reach, mass, leverage. When Avian tried to lock blades, Hansen used his height to bear down. When Avian went for quick strikes, Hansen used his longer arms to keep him at distance.

"You're skilled," Hansen grunted, forcing Avian back with a two-handed overhead strike that the boy had to dodge entirely. "But skill doesn't change physics, kid."

The tide turned gradually. Avian's superior technique met the wall of physical reality. His twelve-year-old arms, no matter how perfectly he moved them, couldn't match the raw strength of a full-grown man who knew how to use it. His Grandmaster aura made him faster, more precise, but it couldn't make his arms longer or his body heavier.

Hansen started timing Avian's dodges, predicting where the boy had to move. A sweep forced Avian to jump. While airborne, Hansen's elbow caught him in the chest, sending him tumbling across the arena floor.

"Aura's impressive," Hansen said, advancing steadily. "Technique's near perfect. But you're still in a child's body, and I've been doing this longer than you've been alive."

Avian rolled to his feet, breathing hard. His ribs protested - the blow had been pulled, but message received. He tried to circle, looking for openings, but Hansen had found his rhythm now. Every exchange forced Avian to give ground. Every clash of blades sent shocks up his smaller arms.

Fuck. He's right. I can see every opening, know exactly what to do, but this body just can't execute properly.

He lunged anyway, off-balance. Hansen's counter was clinical.

The end came when Hansen feinted high, then brought his sword around in a low sweep. Avian read it perfectly, moved to counter - but his shorter reach meant he had to overextend. Hansen's free hand caught his wrist, used Avian's own momentum to spin him around, and put the practice sword at his throat.

"Yield?" Hansen asked, breathing heavily but victorious.

"...Yield." The word tasted bitter, but Avian knew when he was beaten.

Being a child fucking sucks. All the knowledge in the world doesn't matter if your arms are too short to apply it.

Hansen released him, stepping back with something like respect in his scarred face. "You still pass. Already landed a hit in the first round - that's all the guild requires. But maybe this teaches you something."

"That size matters?" Avian rubbed his wrist where Hansen had grabbed it.

"That everything matters. Skill, strength, experience, body type - it all counts in a real fight." Hansen moved to his desk. "You've got the talent. Hell, you've got Grandmaster aura at twelve, which is fucking insane. But don't let it make you stupid. Know your limits."

"I'm learning them," Avian admitted.

"Good. That'll keep you alive longer than arrogance." Hansen pulled out two metal plates. "Bronze rank for both of you. Your friend passes because you already proved yourself in round one. Guild rules."

He handed over the plates. "Standard terms apply. Ten percent to the guild, don't take missions above your rank, try not to die in ways that make us look bad."

"We'll do our best," Kai said, accepting his plate. He'd watched the whole exchange with fascination. Avian had lost, but the fact he'd lasted that long against Hansen with such a massive physical disadvantage was more impressive than winning.

"Oh, and kid?" Hansen called as they headed for the door. "In a few years, when you've got an adult body to match those skills? Come find me. I'd like a rematch when you're not fighting physics itself."

"I'll keep that in mind," Avian said.

Clara was waiting outside, eyes wide. "I heard... did you actually beat Hansen?"

She wasn't there for the match, but gossip travels fast in the guild.

"Lucky shot," Avian said, echoing the guildmaster's words.

"Twice?"

"Very lucky."

She clearly didn't buy it but maintained professional composure. Behind her, other guild staff were whispering and pointing. Word traveled fast about the "twelve-year-old who looks eighteen and fights like a veteran."

"Well, congratulations on becoming Bronze-rank adventurers. Would you like to see the contract board?"

The main hall was even more chaotic than before. The brawl had ended, replaced by loud negotiations over who owed drinks. Clara led them to a massive board covered in papers, each marked with colored symbols.

"Bronze contracts are here," she explained, indicating the lower section. "Start with something simple - rat extermination, herb collection, maybe slime clearing if you're feeling confident."

Avian scanned the available contracts. Most were exactly what she'd described - pest control and fetch quests. But one caught his eye.

"Scouting request," he read. "Unknown creature sightings in old cemetery district. Observation only, no engagement required."

"Oh, that one's been up for a week," Clara said. "Four teams have gone to investigate. All reported 'strange feelings' and 'probably nothing' before refusing to go back."

Strange feelings in a cemetery. Either ghosts or something pretending to be ghosts. Could be interesting.

"We'll take it," Avian decided.

"Are you sure? For your first contract—"

"Observation only," Kai pointed out. "We look around, report what we see, collect payment. Simple."

Clara looked doubtful but processed the contract. "Very well. Standard rate for bronze scouting is fifty silver, plus bonuses for actionable intelligence. Try to return by sunset - the cemetery gets... uncomfortable after dark."

They left the guild with their new plates and first contract, stepping back into the crowded streets.

"So," Kai said as they walked. "Adventurers now. That was... intense."

"Hansen's stronger than he looks," Avian admitted.

"That's not what I meant." Kai glanced at him sideways. "The way you fight. Like you've done this for decades, not years. Makes me wonder what you've really seen."

"The Veritas family has thorough training methods."

"Clearly." Kai let the subject drop, but Avian could see him filing it away. "Cemetery's in the old district. Should take an hour to get there."

"Then let's go see what has other adventurers spooked."

They set off through the city, new guild plates hidden but present. It wasn't the underground exploration they'd originally planned, but it was a start. Information, experience, preparation - all stepping stones to the real goal.

And maybe, just maybe, they'd find some interesting monsters along the way.

Been too long since I fought something that wasn't human. Wonder if they've learned any new tricks for trying to kill people. Probably not - death's pretty consistent across the centuries.