The door closed behind them with the weight of bad decisions. Benedict's printing house smelled like ink and desperation—the kind of place where lost causes went to die loudly.

Fuck this dancing around, Avian thought, watching Benedict pour tea with hands that trembled just enough to notice. We don't have time for social graces.

"Sugar?" Benedict asked, like they were having a civilized conversation instead of standing on the edge of chaos.

"Cut the shit," Avian said. "Where's Seren?"

Kai winced. "What my friend means is—"

"I know exactly what he means." Benedict set down the teapot with deliberate care. "The Veritas heir wants to silence my historian. The Church's attack dog, come to heel."

Attack dog. The words scraped against old wounds. Avian felt his jaw tighten, that familiar anger coiling in his chest like it had a reservation.

"We're not here for the Church," Kai said quickly, shooting Avian a warning look. "We just need to talk to her."

"Talk." Benedict's laugh was bitter as old medicine. "Young lords don't 'talk' to people like us. They give orders. Make threats. Sometimes they skip straight to the violence."

Avian stepped forward. The floorboards creaked under his weight—old wood that had seen better decades. "Listen carefully, because I'm only saying this once. You can let us talk to Seren, or—"

"Or you'll force your way through?" Benedict's exhaustion cracked, showing the fury underneath. "Kill an old man for printing the truth?"

"That depends entirely on you." Avian kept his voice flat, matter-of-fact. Like discussing weather. "Your choice how this goes."

"Avian, there's no need for—haha—that kind of talk." Kai's nervous laugh fooled exactly nobody. "We're all reasonable people here."

Benedict studied them for a long moment. His shoulders sagged—not defeat, just recognition of reality. "I don't have the manpower to fight off a Veritas heir and his shadow. Not anymore."

Not anymore. Interesting choice of words.

"Follow me." Benedict turned toward a narrow hallway. "She's in the back room. Working on her next article, no doubt."

The corridor stretched longer than the building should allow. Avian's instincts started screaming before his eyes caught up—too narrow, too convenient, too much like a—

"Trap," he said, just as his foot crossed the threshold.

The magic circle flared to life beneath them. Immobilization runes sparked along the walls, trying to lock their bodies in place like insects in amber. The air itself turned thick, resistant, crushing.

Kai grunted, muscles straining against invisible bonds. "Can't—move—"

Benedict stood at the far end, no longer looking exhausted. "Did you really think I'd survived this long in the capital without precautions?"

Did he really think this would work?

"Did you really think this would get us, you dumbass?" Avian didn't fight the spell. Instead, he reached down—not with his hands, but with his magic. Gravity answered like an old friend with violent tendencies.

The stone floor cracked. Not a subtle fracture—a proper break that split the magic circle in half and sent runes scattering like startled roaches. The immobilization spell collapsed, its foundation literally broken.

"Shit," Benedict said with feeling.

Then came the running. Footsteps pounding up stairs that definitely hadn't been there before. A door slammed somewhere above them.

"That's her," Benedict said unnecessarily.

Avian was already moving. Through the shattered corridor, past Benedict who pressed himself against the wall, up stairs that complained about the abuse. Behind him, Kai shouted something about waiting, planning, not being an idiot.

Too late for that.

The back door hung open, swinging in the morning breeze. Avian burst through to find Seren twenty yards ahead, running like her life depended on it. Which, given recent events, wasn't unreasonable.

She'd cut her hair since summer. Practical. Easier to run with short hair. Harder for someone to grab.

"Seren!"

She glanced back, stumbled, kept running. Recognition flashed across her face—not fear, but something worse. Disappointment.

She expected better from us.

The chase was almost insulting in its brevity. Seren was fast for a scholar, but Avian was a trained warrior. His longer legs ate distance. His body moved with practiced efficiency. When she tried to duck into an alley, he was already there. When she attempted to vault a fence, he pulled her back down.

"Stop," she gasped, throwing a wild punch that he didn't even need to dodge. "Just stop!"

"Can't do that."

She tried to knee him in the groin—points for pragmatism. He shifted his weight, let her momentum carry her past him. She spun, aimed for his throat. He leaned back, watched her fist pass inches from his nose.

"We were allies," she said, breathing hard. "Before the Academy. At the warehouse. We helped each other."

"I know."

"Then why—"

He moved while she was mid-word. Nothing fancy—just stepped behind her and delivered a measured tap to the base of her skull. Her eyes rolled back. He caught her before she hit the ground, checking her pulse automatically. Strong and steady. She'd wake up with a headache and bruised pride, nothing worse.

Probably should feel bad about this.

He didn't.

The walk back took longer, carrying an unconscious woman through morning streets that were starting to fill with early workers. Most looked away—nobody wanted to get involved with someone wearing Veritas colors. The few who stared got Avian's best "this is official business" look, which worked well enough.

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By the time he returned, Kai had moved inside with Benedict. They both looked up when Avian entered carrying Seren.

Benedict waited in his shop's main room, slumped in a chair like his strings had been cut. "Is she—?"

"Alive. Unconscious. She'll wake up soon." Avian deposited Seren on a worn couch that had seen better decades. "Get water. And something for her head."

"You knocked her out."

"You tried to trap us with a half-assed immobilization spell." Avian dropped into a chair that creaked ominously. "We all make choices."

Kai positioned himself by the door—not threatening, just present. "Mr. Ravencrest, we're not here to harm anyone. But we need Seren to stop publishing."

"The truth needs to be told—"

"The truth is burning down the Academy." Avian cut him off. "The Church has probably killed a dozen publishers by now, maybe more. Every article she releases, more people die. And for what? To prove something everyone already suspects?"

Benedict's jaw tightened. "To prove the Church built their power on lies. To show the noble houses collaborated in rewriting history. To give people the truth about their own past—"

"The truth." Avian laughed—short, sharp, humorless. "You want to know the truth? The truth is that tearing down the Church right now helps nobody. It just creates chaos. And in chaos, the powerful always win."

"You would say that. You ARE the powerful."

"Am I?" Avian leaned forward. "I'm fifteen years old, wearing a title I inherited through blood and death, trying to keep the Empire from tearing itself apart while everyone schemes for advantage. If I'm powerful, it's the kind of power that comes with a knife at your throat and poison in your cup."

Seren stirred on the couch, a soft groan escaping her lips.

"When she wakes up," Avian said, not looking away from Benedict, "we're going to talk. Calmly. Rationally. About why destroying the Church right now means I might never get the answers I need. About why her revenge needs to wait."

"Revenge?" Benedict's voice cracked. "Is that what you think this is?"

"Her entire family was murdered by Church Inquisitors for asking questions." Avian's voice stayed flat, factual. "Her parents, her siblings, everyone. She only survived because she was returning from travel when it happened. Got there just in time to see the smoke. So yes, I think revenge factors in."

Seren's eyes snapped open. She didn't move, didn't speak, but Avian felt the moment she became fully conscious. The quality of her stillness changed—from unconscious to waiting.

"You can stop pretending," he said without turning. "Your breathing changed."

She sat up slowly, one hand going to the back of her head. "You hit me."

"You ran."

"That's what people do when someone with a sword chases them."

"Fair point."

Kai brought water without being asked. Seren took it with steady hands, drank slowly, watched them over the rim of the cup like she was calculating angles of attack.

"You know what I find interesting?" she said finally. "You didn't deny it. The Church's lies. The collaboration. You know it's all true."

"Of course it's true." Avian met her gaze directly. "My ancestor helped write those lies. Probably killed anyone who questioned them. The Veritas family has so much blood on its hands, we could fill an ocean."

"Then why stop me?"

"Because burning down the house while you're still inside is stupid." He stood, paced to the window. Outside, the capital went about its morning—vendors hawking wares, children running to lessons, normal people living normal lives built on foundations of lies. "The Church controls half the Empire's infrastructure. Education, healing, record-keeping, dispute resolution. You destroy them overnight, you don't get justice. You get chaos."

"The truth—"

"The truth needs to be tactical." He turned back to her. "Released carefully, with purpose. Building alternatives before you tear down what exists. Otherwise, you're just another destroyer in a long line of destroyers."

"Like your ancestor."

"Exactly like my ancestor." The admission tasted like copper. "Saint Vaerin built his legacy on lies. Look how well that worked out."

Seren studied him. "You've said things like that before. About truth and history."

"I'm saying even saints were human. They made choices. Some of those choices..." Avian chose his words carefully. "History shows us the results, not always the full truth."

"That's still borderline heresy, coming from a Veritas."

"It's pragmatism. My family's power comes from that legacy. But power built on lies is unstable. Eventually, truth surfaces."

"So you admit the foundation is rotten, but you want to preserve it?"

"I want to replace it. Carefully. Without getting everyone killed in the process." Avian returned to his chair. "Look, we have three days before we need to be back at the Academy. We leave tomorrow at dawn, that gives us a day to travel, a day there, and a day to return."

"Leave for where?"

"That depends on what your friend here knows."

Benedict made a sound—surprise or recognition.

"You know something," Avian said, focusing on him.

"Rumors. Fragments. Nothing concrete."

"Tell me."

Benedict glanced at Seren, who nodded slightly.

"There are rumors," he said slowly, "about the Mountains of Calfont. That powerful warriors guard them. Some say they're strong enough to be heroes from the past, though that's probably just legend."

The words hung in the air like a blade waiting to drop.

"Heroes from the past?" Kai asked.

"Stories mostly. But..." Benedict hesitated. "There's a monk. Brother Neamus. He left the Church twenty years ago, lives as a hermit now. He claimed to have seen original documents, from before the revision. He might know the truth about what's really there."

"Where?"

"The Thornwood. Near the old battlefield."

Of course. Back to where it all started.

"Then that's where we go," Avian decided. "Tomorrow at dawn."

"You want me to come with you?" Seren asked. "Into bandit-infested wilderness to find a hermit who might be dead?"

"I want you to stop publishing for three days. Coming with us means I can keep an eye on you, and you might get answers that help your cause."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then we tie you up and leave you here. The monk's information doesn't depend on your cooperation." Avian stood. "But think about it—you want to destroy the Church for killing your family. What if there's more to the story? What if the real enemy isn't who you think?"

She was quiet for a long moment, then asked: "Why do you care so much about the Demon War? This isn't just academic curiosity."

"I have my reasons."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one you're getting right now."

They stared at each other—two people carrying different pieces of the same puzzle, neither willing to show their hand first.

"Fine," she said finally. "I'll come. But I'm bringing my research."

"Wouldn't expect anything less."

"And Benedict?"

"Stays here. Keeps quiet. Burns anything that could identify you if the Church comes calling."

Benedict nodded. "I can do that. I've been hiding things from the Church for twenty years."

"Then it's settled," Avian said. "We leave at dawn. Be ready."

As they prepared to leave, Kai pulled Avian aside.

"This is insane. Taking the person trying to destroy the Academy into the wilderness?"

"You have a better idea?"

"No, but that doesn't make this one good."

"It's what we have." Avian checked Fargrim's edge—still sharp enough to cut thoughts. "Besides, keeping her close means she can't publish more articles. And maybe, just maybe, we find something that changes everything."

"Or we all die in the Thornwood."

"Also possible."

Kai sighed. "Why do I follow you into these things?"

"Because you're invested in my success, remember?"

"Right. My terrible life choices." But Kai was already planning, calculating angles.

They left Seren and Benedict to prepare, returning to their inn to gather supplies for the journey. Three days to find a monk who might not exist, get information that might be lies, and return before the Dean decided they'd abandoned the Academy.

Just another perfectly normal week in my perfectly normal reincarnated life.

Tomorrow would bring its own challenges. But tonight, they had preparations to make. The game was changing, and Avian intended to be ready for whatever came next.

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