After Damian left, I focus more on the other paperwork that I have left. In as much as Adrian did not get physical, things are still far manageable.

Tomorrow evening was my meeting with Professor Iris. Tomorrow

I'd learn more truth about the Council of Fates. Things I didn't even get to read in the book.

But tonight, I allowed myself a moment of satisfaction. The faction was stronger than ever.

A knock at the door.

"Come in."

Seraphina entered. Again. Third time in two days.

"Do you ever sleep?" I asked her wearily.

"Do you?" She sat without invitation this time, as if she's getting more comfortable. "I heard about the family threats. About your members choosing to stay despite them."

"News travels fast." I shrugged.

"I make it my business to know things. Especially things that matter." She studied me. "You offered to support them financially. Even though it'll cost your faction significant resources."

"They chose to stay. Least I can do is make that choice possible."

"Adrian would never do that."

"I'm not Adrian."

"No." She stood, moved to the door. "No, you're really not."

"Seraphina? Why are you telling me this? Why are you here?"

She paused. "Because I'm starting to understand the difference between someone who wants followers and someone who wants to protect people. Between someone who demands loyalty and someone who earns it."

"And that understanding...?"

"Makes me question everything I thought I knew about heroes and villains." She looked back. "See you tomorrow, Hadeon Ravana. I'll be watching."

I could only stare at the closed door with a shake of my head. In the book, although she wasn't the tightest buddy with Adrian, she was clearly on his side and who knew what happened at the end?

I sighed and shook my head. "No matter, I will deal with all of that later. I should sleep early for tomorrow."

☆☆▪︎▪︎☆☆

The address Professor Iris had given me led to the oldest part of the academy, in a section most students avoided. The buildings here predated the current structures by centuries, their stone walls covered in ivy and won away by time.

Evening had fallen. The hallways were empty, lit only by dim magical lamps that cast long shadows. I found the door marked with a faded brass plate, Professor I. Shadowmere - Private Study.

I knocked three times.

"Enter, Hadeon Ravana."

The door swung open on silent hinges. Inside, the study was exactly what I'd expect from someone who'd lived for a professor, walls lined floor-to-ceiling with books, artifacts on shelves that hummed with residual magic, and a sense of accumulated time that pressed against my awareness.

Professor Iris sat behind a massive oak desk, looking simultaneously young and ancient. Silver hair despite an unlined face.

Her eyes that had seen too much.

"Punctual, I see. That's good." She gestured to a chair. "Sit. We have much to discuss, and some of it will be... difficult to hear."

I sat, noting how she'd warded the room. Multiple layers of privacy enchantments and sound dampening, even something that felt like it blocked divination magic.

"You're worried about being overheard," I observed.

"I'm worried about them knowing we're having this conversation." She stood, moved to a cabinet, pulled out a bottle of amber liquid. "Drink?"

"I'm seventeen."

"And I'm a hundred and thirty-seven. Age is relative." But she poured only one glass for herself. "Besides, you'll want a clear head for this."

She settled back into her chair, took a long drink, then met my eyes with an intensity that made me understand why students found her intimidating.

"How much do you know about the Council of Fates?"

The question hung in the air between us. This was the moment of truth, or at least, as much truth as I could safely share.

"I know they exist," I said carefully. "I know they manipulate... events. Heroes and villains. That they've done this for multiple cycles." I paused. "And I know I'm not supposed to know any of that."

"Yet you do." She studied me intently. "Most people in your position are completely ignorant until it's far too late. So tell me, Hadeon Ravana, how did you learn about them? The last time we talked, I only go about hinting at them."

I couldn't tell her about transmigration. About reading a webnovel in my previous life. But I could give her partial truth.

"My family has some records. Going back generations. Patterns they noticed of heroes appearing every hundred years or so, villains rising to challenge them, everything following similar scripts." I pulled out documents I'd prepared, a fabricated but convincing, based on Uncle Victor's actual family records. "My grandfather discovered something was wrong. He died under... suspicious circumstances."

Her expression softened with genuine sympathy. "Your family has been fighting this for generations."

"And losing. My parents died two years ago. Another 'accident' right after they started investigating more aggressively."

"I'm sorry." She set down her glass. "Truly. The Council is thorough about eliminating threats." She stood, moving to a covered object in the corner. "But the fact that you're here, aware and fighting back, means your family succeeded in one critical way, they passed on the knowledge. That alone is a victory."

"Professor, what exactly is the Council of Fates?"

She pulled the cloth away, revealing what looked like an orrery, but instead of planets, it showed multiple worlds circling a central point of darkness.

"The Council of Fates is... old. Older than human civilization. Older than this world, in some ways." She touched the orrery, and it began to move, worlds spinning slowly. "They exist outside normal reality. In a realm where stories have substance. Where narratives are tangible things with real power. Where words are power."

I leaned forward, fascinated despite knowing some of this already.

"This is our world." She pointed to one of the spinning spheres. "Aethermoor and the surrounding continents. But there are others. Dozens, perhaps hundreds. Each one a story world under Council control."

The orrery showed world after world, each moving in its own orbit around that central darkness.

"The Council discovered something fundamental about reality, stories generate power. Real, tangible power. When enough people believe in something, hero defeats villain, good triumphs over evil, destiny fulfilled, it creates energy." She turned to face me. "Narrative energy. And the Council feeds on it."

"They're parasites." I said with a chill in my voice.

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