Hero Of Broken History

Seraphina's POV - Academy Grounds, Morning

The Academy uniform felt wrong against her skin. Too soft, too clean, too civilian. Three weeks of Archbishop Caldris's special training had transformed her body—muscle density increased, reflexes sharpened to predator levels, mana channels forcibly expanded until using power felt like breathing. But here she had to pretend to be just another student.

Find the masked killer. Make him pay.

Simple orders. Simple purpose.

Students gave her wide berth as she crossed the main courtyard. They could sense something off about her, the way sheep recognized wolves even in disguise. Good. She didn't need friends. She needed information.

"Hey! You're new!"

A girl materialized beside her—short, freckled, commoner clothes but clean. Brown hair in practical braids, genuine smile that hadn't been beaten down by Academy politics yet. The kind of person Amara would have protected.

Amara's dead.

"I'm Penny," the girl continued, undeterred by Seraphina's silence. "Scholarship student, second year. You just transferred in?"

"Yes."

"From the Church Academy? I heard they sent someone." Penny's eyes were curious but not judgmental. "Must be different here. Less... structured?"

"Less disciplined."

Penny laughed. "That's one way to put it. Want me to show you around? The Academy's confusing at first—took me weeks to stop getting lost."

Seraphina considered dismissing her. But a guide who knew the Academy's layout and students would be useful. "Fine."

"Great! So this is the main courtyard—everyone crosses here between classes. That fountain? Don't drink from it. Third-years spike it with mild hallucinogens during exam week." Penny pointed as they walked. "Library's that way, but the good books are on floors six through eight. Technically restricted, but if you're quiet..."

They passed groups of students, and Penny provided commentary. "Those are the merchant kids—rich but not noble, so they cluster for protection. That group there? Noble third sons and daughters, the spares. They're usually decent unless they're trying to prove something."

"The training grounds?" Seraphina asked.

"North side, past the—oh no."

Three girls approached with the deliberate swagger of predators who'd never been prey. Noble clothes, perfect hair, expressions of cultivated cruelty. The leader—blonde, blue-eyed, probably fifth in line for something insignificant—fixed her gaze on Penny.

"Well, well. The charity case found a friend." Her voice dripped false sweetness. "How adorable."

"Lady Melissa," Penny said quietly, trying to step around them.

They blocked her path.

"And a Church grunt too." Melissa's attention shifted to Seraphina. "Did you think aligning yourself with this zealot would protect you, Penny? The Church has no authority here."

"Please, we're just—"

Melissa grabbed Penny's bag, upending it. Books and papers scattered across the courtyard. "Oops. How clumsy of me."

Penny knelt to gather her things, cheeks burning. The noble girls laughed.

Seraphina watched for three seconds. Then moved.

"Pick them up," she said, voice flat.

Melissa turned, eyebrows raised. "Excuse me?"

"Pick. Them. Up." Each word carried the kind of weight that preceded violence. "Now."

"Do you have any idea who I am? I'm Lady Melissa Carathan, third daughter of—"

"I don't give a shit if you're the Emperor's mistress." Seraphina stepped closer. "You're also a pathetic bitch who gets off on tormenting people weaker than you. Probably because daddy doesn't love you enough and mommy's too drunk to notice you exist."

The courtyard went silent. Students stopped to watch.

Melissa's face went red. "How dare you! I'm nobility! You're just some lowly Church grunt who—"

Her hand swept up to slap Seraphina.

Seraphina caught her wrist. Then began to squeeze.

"Interesting." Her voice remained conversational as bones ground together. "All that noble breeding and you telegraph your strikes like a drunk farmer."

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Melissa's eyes widened. She tried to pull away. The grip tightened.

"Let go!"

"Apologize to Penny."

"You're breaking my—"

"Apologize." Seraphina increased pressure. Something creaked.

Tears welled in Melissa's eyes. Her companions stood frozen, unsure whether to intervene or run.

"I'm... I'm sorry," she gasped.

"To her. Not me."

Melissa looked at Penny, tears streaming. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

Seraphina released her. Melissa stumbled back, cradling her wrist, and fled with her followers.

Penny finished gathering her things, hands shaking. "Thank you, but... that's going to make things worse. She'll retaliate."

"If she touches you again, find me." Seraphina helped collect the last papers. "I'll break more than her wrist."

"You can't just—the Academy has rules about fighting—"

"The Academy can burn for all I care. I'm here for one thing." She paused. "In return for helping you out with your bullying problem, tell me about the top students. The strongest ones."

Penny nodded quickly, eager to help. "Well, there's Lord Marcus Thornfield—fourth son but excellent swordsman. Lady Jessica Vain, she's a prodigy with wind magic. Oh, and Canaline Cloveborn—they call her the Fire Princess. Her flames are supposed to be divine-touched, pure white when she's serious."

"Combat rankings?"

"Kai's interesting—seventh son of a minor branch, but his scores are incredible. Strategic genius, they say. Always in the top five despite having less resources than the others."

"And first place?"

Penny's expression shifted to something between awe and fear. "Avian Veritas."

The name meant nothing to Seraphina, but Penny's tone did. "Strong?"

"Monster is more accurate. Even the instructors aren't on his level. Professor Harwick—scarred, missing an eye, survived three wars—said Avian could probably kill him if he wanted." Penny lowered her voice. "He beat Instructor Steelwind in three minutes this morning. Grandmaster against Grandmaster, and it wasn't even close."

Grandmaster rank. Exceptional combat ability. Unusual techniques.

"Interesting," Seraphina said. "I'll have to check him out."

"Nobody really goes near him. He's... intense. Shows up, demonstrates impossible things, leaves. Like he's here because he has to be, not because he wants to be."

Sounds like someone with secrets. Someone who might wear a mask in the Underground.

"Where does he usually train?"

"North grounds, early morning usually. But he left right after his fight today. Him and Kai both—took horses and headed for the capital."

Seraphina filed that away. The timing was suspicious. "Show me the training grounds anyway."

Avian's POV - Road to the Capital

The horses maintained a steady canter, eating miles with mechanical persistence. The Academy grew smaller behind them, the capital larger ahead. Five days to find Truth's Witness, stop her publications, and return. Not much margin for error.

"What's the plan when we find her?" Kai asked, adjusting his position in the saddle. "Assuming she doesn't run the moment she sees us."

"We talk."

"And if talking doesn't work?"

"Then we get creative." Avian guided his horse around a merchant wagon. "She's not evil, just angry. Her family's dead because of Church paranoia. Can't exactly blame her for wanting revenge."

"But her revenge is destabilizing the entire Academy. Maybe the Empire."

"Good. Both need destabilizing." He caught Kai's look. "What? You think the current system works? The Church controls truth, nobles control resources, and everyone else gets to shut up and die quietly."

"So we're not stopping her?"

"We're redirecting her. There's a difference." Avian urged his horse faster. "The problem isn't the truth coming out. It's the chaos of uncontrolled revelation. If she keeps dropping these articles randomly, people die in the crossfire."

"People like those Church knights in the Underground."

Avian's jaw tightened. "They attacked first."

"I'm not judging. Just observing." Kai matched his pace. "So we find her, convince her to what? Slow down? Be more strategic?"

"Convince her to work with us instead of against everyone. She wants the truth revealed? Fine. But there are ways to do it without burning down the Academy in the process."

"And if she refuses?"

"Then we stop her publications locally and deal with whatever comes next." Avian's expression hardened. "But killing her isn't an option. She's a victim in this too."

"Soft spot for fellow revenge seekers?"

"Something like that."

They rode in silence for a while, the capital growing larger on the horizon. Smoke rose from a thousand chimneys, the city's heartbeat visible even from distance.

"That girl," Kai said eventually. "Seraphina. She enrolled at the Academy a couple days ago."

Avian's hands tightened on the reins. "How do you know?"

"My network. She's asking questions, watching combat training, studying fighting styles." Kai glanced sideways. "She's hunting you."

"Let her hunt. By the time we get back, she'll have five days of frustration and no leads."

"Unless she figures out you're the only Grandmaster-rank student who was absent the night of the Underground incident."

"Then I'll deal with it."

"By killing a fifteen-year-old girl?"

"By finding another way." Avian's voice carried finality.

"Sometimes there isn't."

"Then we make one."

The capital's walls loomed ahead, grey stone reaching toward clouded skies. Somewhere in that maze of streets and secrets, Seren Lyselle was preparing her next truth bomb, unaware that her war was about to gain two complicated allies.

Or enemies, depending on how the conversation went.

"Three and a half days to find her, one day to convince her, half day buffer for problems," Kai calculated. "Tight."

"We've worked with less."

"We've also failed with more."

"Pessimist."

"Realist." Kai smiled slightly. "But I'm curious to see how she decided this was the best way to go about revealing everything."

"Well she's angry, brilliant, and has nothing left to lose. That makes her dangerous."

"Sounds familiar."

Avian didn't respond, but they both knew he was right.

Now he had to convince her that this isn't the right way to go about it before her next article starts a war the Academy couldn't survive.