Hero Of Broken History

Seraphina's POV - Church Camp, Late Night

The training dummy split under her blade, its third replacement tonight. Wood chips scattered across the packed dirt as Seraphina spun to strike the next target, ribs screaming protest she ignored. Pain was just weakness leaving. Amara had taught her that.

Amara was dead now.

The next strike shattered the dummy's head. She'd been at this for three hours, maybe four. Time blurred when all that existed was the sword, the target, and the promise of getting strong enough to matter.

"Such dedication."

She spun, blade raised, then immediately lowered it and dropped to one knee. "Your Grace."

Archbishop Caldris stood at the edge of the training ground, looking like someone's grandfather who'd gotten lost on an evening walk. His gentle smile held nothing but warmth as he gestured for her to rise.

"Please, child. No need for formality at this hour." He approached slowly, as if careful not to startle her. "I heard about your loss. Amara and Roland were exemplary knights."

"They were my family." The words came out raw.

"Yes." He studied her with those kind eyes that seemed to see everything. "And family deserves justice, doesn't it?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice.

"The masked man who killed them. You saw him clearly?"

"Everything but his face. His stance, his blade, the way he moved." Her grip tightened on her sword. "I'd recognize him anywhere."

"Good. Good." The Archbishop produced a handkerchief from his robes, dabbing at a cut on her cheek she hadn't noticed. "You're pushing yourself very hard, my dear."

"Not hard enough. I couldn't save them."

"You saved young Dimitri. Carried him to safety despite your own injuries." His hand settled on her shoulder, grandfather-gentle. "That took remarkable strength for one so young."

"Strength that came too late."

"Strength that can grow." His smile widened slightly. "I've been watching you, Seraphina. Your potential is... exceptional. The Church has programs for those with such gifts. Accelerated training. Advanced techniques."

"I'll do whatever it takes."

"I know you will." He squeezed her shoulder. "The rage you feel, the need for vengeance—these are natural. But they must be shaped, focused, turned into something useful. Raw emotion is just chaos. Directed emotion becomes power."

He pulled out a small vial, pressing it into her hand. "Healing accelerant. It will help your ribs mend faster. Can't have our most promising student injured when she needs to train."

"Your Grace, I—"

"Take it. Rest tonight. Tomorrow, your real training begins." He turned to leave, then paused. "Oh, and Seraphina? When you find the masked man—and you will find him—remember that justice and vengeance often wear the same face. The difference is in who guides the blade."

He left her there, holding the vial, feeling simultaneously comforted and unsettled. Something in his words, his timing, felt too perfect. Like pieces being moved on a board she couldn't see.

But she didn't care about games or manipulation. All that mattered was getting strong enough to make that masked bastard pay.

Kai's POV - Merchant District, Just After Midnight

The guard post was a joke. Single man, half-asleep, probably dreaming of better employment. Kai slipped past him like smoke through fingers, scaling the estate wall where ivy had conveniently grown thick.

The mansion's service entrance was predictably active this time of evening—dinner cleanup, preparations for tomorrow's deliveries. Servants too busy to notice one more shadow moving with purpose.

He found his first target in the wine cellar. A guard, younger than the gate watchman, nervously checking inventory lists.

"Excuse me," Kai said pleasantly.

The guard spun, hand going to his sword, then freezing as Kai's blade pressed against his throat.

"Let's have a quiet conversation about your employer."

Five minutes and a dose of truth serum later, the guard was slurring through useless information.

"I just... just watch the wine. Master doesn't trust servants with the good vintages. Don't know nothing about his business. Just wine. So much wine."

Useless. Kai left him unconscious behind a barrel and moved deeper into the house.

The kitchen was bustling. He waited, patient as a hunting cat, until a housemaid separated from the group, heading to the pantry for supplies. She was older, the kind who'd been with the household for years. The kind who knew everything.

"Don't scream," he whispered, hand over her mouth as she entered the pantry.

Her eyes went wide, then calculating. Smart woman.

"I'm going to remove my hand. You're going to answer questions. If you scream, things get unpleasant. Nod if you understand."

She nodded.

He removed his hand. She didn't scream.

"Your master. Tell me about his business associates."

"I don't—"

Kai pulled out a small pouch, letting the coins inside clink. "Twenty silver for useful information." Then he let his blade catch the light. "Or we can do this the unpleasant way. Your choice."

The maid's face went pale. "You wouldn't—not here, not with—"

"I'm on a tight schedule. Choose quickly."

She looked at the coins, then the blade, then back at the coins. "Goldus Merchantius," she whispered, glancing at the pantry door. "That's the master. Imports silks and spices, or so he says. But men come at night sometimes. Dangerous men."

"What kind of dangerous?"

"The kind that make you forget you saw them, if you value breathing."

"Does he have connections to the Church?"

She laughed bitterly. "He has connections to everyone. Church, Empire, anyone who pays. Always funding something secretive in warehouses."

"What about recent deliveries? Papers? Printing supplies?"

"There was... there was a shipment two nights ago. Boxes and boxes, heavy. The master supervised personally, wouldn't let servants handle them. Had them taken to his private study."

"Where's the study?"

"Third floor, east wing. But it's locked. Always locked."

"Locks aren't a problem." Kai pressed the pouch into her hand. "For your trouble and your silence."

She clutched the pouch, looking conflicted. "You're not going to hurt him, are you? He's not a good man, but if he dies, we all lose our positions."

"He'll live. Probably."

He left her there and made his way out the same way he'd entered. It wasn't until he was three streets away that the name fully registered.

Goldus Merchantius. Why do I know that— Wait.

That's the same bastard who was funding those death mancers. Still doing illegal shit. He frowned, working through the implications. But he was all about making money and collecting artifacts. Where's the profit in distributing heretical articles? Unless he thinks it'll get him access to something... or someone's paying him extremely well.

He needed to tell Avian. Now.

Avian's POV - Merchant District, Two Hours Before Dawn

They'd been watching Goldus's mansion for an hour. Guards at their posts, but nervous. Lights blazing in the study despite the late hour. Through the window, they could see Goldus moving frantically, stuffing papers into cases.

"He's planning to run," Kai murmured. "Probably figures the Church will come for him once they see the second article."

"Four guards outside, probably two more inside," Avian noted. "Servants will be asleep except for maybe one helping him pack."

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"We go in quiet," Avian said. "Get to Goldus before he flees, make him talk."

"No killing?"

"Not unless necessary. Dead men can't answer questions."

They dropped from the roof, moving through shadows. Kai's infiltration earlier had given them the layout. The guards were easy to avoid—complacent from routine.

The servant's entrance was unlocked, just as the maid had said. They slipped inside, navigating by memory through dark hallways. The study was on the third floor, east wing.

They were halfway up the stairs when they heard it—papers rustling, frantic movement, and muffled cursing.

He's awake. And panicking.

They moved faster, reaching the study door just as something heavy hit the floor inside. Through the crack under the door, they could smell smoke—something burning.

Avian didn't hesitate. He kicked the door open.

Goldus looked up from where he knelt beside an open safe, arms full of documents. His ridiculous sleeping cap sat askew on his balding head, and his nightgown had seen better decades. Several traveling cases were already packed nearby.

"Who—Lord Veritas?" His face went from confusion to terror in an instant. "I can explain—"

"Good. Start talking." Avian stepped inside, hand on his sword. "What are you burning?"

"Evidence! I mean—just old receipts, tax documents—"

Kai moved past him, snatching papers from the fireplace before they fully caught. "Distribution ledgers. Payment records to various runners and printing houses. All dated within the last month."

"Destroying evidence that links you to the distributors?" Avian drew his blade—not Fargrim, just plain steel. "That suggests guilt."

"I don't know what you're talking about—"

The sword point found his throat. "Let me be clearer. Two Church knights are dead because of articles you're helping distribute. More will die when war breaks out. So you're going to tell me everything, or I'm going to let my friend here get creative with his knives."

Kai smiled, spinning a blade. "I've been practicing. Want to see?"

Goldus broke faster than wet paper. "It's not my fault! She came to me! Said she had documents that would shake the Empire!"

"She?"

"The historian! Seren Lyselle! Said the Church destroyed her family, killed everyone." Goldus was sweating now, words tumbling out. "She had proof—real proof about the Church's lies. Benedict Ravencrest brought her to me, said I could make a fortune if the Church's authority crumbled."

"Benedict Ravencrest." Kai frowned. "That name's familiar—wait, wasn't he involved in that succession dispute after the war?

"Old nobility," Goldus babbled. "His family backed the wrong side after the Demon War, got stripped of titles. He owns a publishing house in the capital now. Hates the Church more than anyone."

"Where is Seren now?"

"The capital! She's staying at the Ravencrest publishing house. Old Raven district, near the docks." Goldus grabbed Avian's arm. "Please, I'm just a middleman! I distribute the papers for gold, nothing more!"

"You funded death mancers. Now you're funding sedition." Avian pulled free. "You have a pattern."

"I fund opportunity! It's business!"

"Your business is getting people killed."

"As opposed to your business?" Goldus found a spark of courage. "Don't think I haven't heard the rumors. Young Lord Veritas, out at strange hours. That demon blade you carry. Those Church knights in the Underground—"

Avian's blade pressed harder. "Careful."

"I'm just saying, we all have our secrets. Our purposes." Goldus's eyes glinted. "What's yours, I wonder? What drives the Veritas heir to hunt truth so desperately?"

Before Avian could respond, Kai stepped forward. "Enough. We have what we need. Seren's in the capital with Benedict Ravencrest."

"Yes. Let's go." Avian turned to leave, then paused. "Goldus, you're going to forget we were here. You're going to burn those documents and pretend you know nothing about any articles. Clear?"

"Crystal clear. I know nothing. I am nothing. I'm practically furniture."

"Oh, and the second article drops at dawn. 'The Nobles' Betrayal.' If your family's mentioned, you might want to actually leave town."

"Dawn? That's in two hours!"

"Better pack faster then."

They left him there, scrambling to destroy evidence. Outside, the first hints of dawn touched the sky.

"The capital," Kai said as they walked. "That's days of travel."

"Then we leave today."

"Just like that? Drop everything and leave?"

"The next article will drop soon. When it does, the Academy might not survive the aftermath." Avian kept walking. "We need to stop this at the source."

Kai grabbed his arm, stopping him. "No."

"No?"

"Not until you tell me what this is really about." Kai's expression was hard. "I've followed you through death mancers, Underground murders, and now sedition. I've risked everything, and you still won't tell me why."

"Kai—"

"What truth are you hunting, Avian?" His grip tightened. "You look at everything like you're seeing through it, past it. Like you were born with some purpose from a past life. What is it? Why can't you tell me?"

Avian tried to pull away, but Kai held on.

"I've been by your side this whole time. Unconditionally. And you can't trust me with the truth?" Kai's voice cracked slightly. "That Empire deal is starting to sound reasonable. At least they're honest about using me."

The words hit harder than any blade. Avian stood there, dawn light catching them both, and made a decision.

"You want the truth?"

"Yes."

"Fine. But not here. Too exposed."

They found an abandoned warehouse, checked it was empty, then Avian sealed the doors with a chair.

"The truth," he said slowly, "is that I'm hunting what really happened during the Demon War."

"Everyone knows—"

"Everyone knows lies. Vaerin wasn't the hero they claim. The Demon King wasn't the monster they say." Avian's jaw clenched. "Someone important to me... someone I cared about... they were destroyed by those lies. Their memory erased, replaced with propaganda."

"Who?"

"I can't—" Avian stopped, then forced himself to continue. "Commander D. The real one. Not the footnote in history books. He was... important. And they erased him to make Vaerin look better."

Kai studied him. "You're not telling me everything."

"No. But I'm telling you what I can." Avian met his eyes. "The full truth would sound insane. Would put you in danger. But I swear, when this is over, when I find what I'm looking for, I'll tell you everything."

"And if I say that's not enough?"

"Then you walk away. Take the Empire's deal. I won't stop you."

They stood there, warehouse dust dancing in dawn light streaming through cracks. Finally, Kai sighed.

"You're a bastard, you know that?"

"Yes."

"A secretive, manipulative bastard who's going to get us both killed."

"Probably."

"Fine. We go to the capital. Find this Seren. Stop the articles." Kai headed for the door. "But when this is over, you tell me everything. No more half-truths."

"Deal."

"And I want hazard pay."

"You always want hazard pay."

"Because you're always hazardous!"

They left the warehouse as full dawn broke. Students would be waking to find newspapers under their doors—"The Nobles' Betrayal" spreading like wildfire through the Academy.

But they wouldn't be there to see the chaos. They needed to prepare for the journey to the capital.

Morning - Academy Grounds

The chaos was immediate and vicious.

"Your family sold out to the Church!"

"At least we didn't hide like cowards!"

"We survived! Your ancestors are probably in Church torture chambers!"

Avian and Kai moved through the violence, avoiding the worst of it. They needed to prepare, gather supplies for the journey to the capital.

"The protagonist senses adventure!" Leontis appeared, somehow untouched by the chaos around him. "You're planning something, aren't you?"

"How did you—"

"The protagonist knows all! Also, you have that look. The 'about to do something inadvisable' look."

"We need to get to the capital," Avian said quietly. "Stop this at the source."

"The capital's far. You'll need Academy permission to leave."

"I know."

Leontis's theatrical mask slipped for a moment. "The memories are getting stronger. Whoever's memories these are, they're building to something. A revelation about how the Demon War really ended."

"What kind of revelation?"

"I don't know yet. But when you get back—if you get back—I might have answers." He struck a pose. "The protagonist shall hold the fort! Chapter Thirty-Three: In Which Our Heroes Are Definitely Not Planning Anything!"

They left him there, performing for a growing crowd of confused students.

Near the library, they ran into Canaline.

"Lord Veritas." She looked harried. "Have you seen the second article?"

"Unfortunately."

"My family's documents arrived yesterday. Several mention the Ravencrest family—they were at meetings after the Demon King's death." She pulled him aside. "Whatever you're planning, be careful. The Ravencrests were destroyed for a reason."

"What reason?"

"That's what I'm still trying to piece together from the documents. I'll send word if I learn anything useful."

"Thank you."

She studied him. "You're leaving, aren't you? Going after the source."

"If the Dean allows it."

"He won't. Not with the Academy in chaos." She glanced around, then whispered, "But he might make a deal. He always does, for the right price."

They were heading toward the dormitories when they heard footsteps behind them—measured, deliberate.

"Lord Veritas. Lord Kai."

They turned to find Dean Aldrich walking toward them, having emerged from the library. "Planning a trip?"

"Dean, we—"

"My office. Now." His ancient eyes held no room for argument. "We need to discuss your sudden interest in travel during an Academy crisis."

They followed him to his tower, the climb feeling longer under the weight of his disapproval. In his office, he didn't even offer them seats.

"You interrogated Goldus Merchantius last night," he said without preamble. "Don't deny it. I know everything that happens in my city."

"How—"

"That's not important. What's important is that you're planning to leave for the capital to find the source of these articles." He moved to his window, watching smoke rise from small fires across the Academy. "I cannot allow students to simply abandon their education during a crisis."

"Then we're stuck," Avian said.

"Not necessarily." The Dean turned back. "You wanted advanced placement testing. To graduate early."

"Yes."

"Then I'll make you a deal. Tomorrow morning, you face one of our senior combat instructors. Not Harwick—he likes you too much. Someone impartial." His smile was thin. "If you win, you receive full graduation credentials and permission to leave. If you lose, you stay and weather this storm with everyone else."

"That's fair."

"No, it's not. It's heavily weighted against you. But it's what I'm offering." The Dean sat behind his desk. "Senior instructors aren't just teachers, Lord Veritas. They're veterans. Warriors who've survived decades of real combat."

"I accept."

"Of course you do." The Dean made a note. "Tomorrow, dawn, main arena. Don't be late. And Lord Veritas?"

"Yes?"

"If you're thinking of holding back to hide your true capabilities—don't. You'll need everything you have to win."

They left, and Kai immediately turned to him.

"Can you beat a senior instructor?"

"I'll have to."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have."