Avian's POV

The doors opened into a silence that pressed against his ears like deep water.

The main hall stretched before them, vast and oppressive in its emptiness. Marble columns rose like accusations toward a vaulted ceiling lost in shadow. Torchlight flickered across surfaces polished to mirror perfection, reflecting two figures and nothing else.

But where Avian expected to see other candidates — bloodied perhaps, exhausted certainly, but present — the space before Father's throne yawned empty as a crypt.

Just empty.

What the fuck? Where is everyone?

Each step echoed too loud, too alone. His body felt surprisingly good, all things considered. The journey back had given him time to recover, and his natural healing had done its work with unnerving efficiency.

This body heals fast. Too fast. Is it just natural talent? Some god-given gift I don't know about?

The thought nagged at him. Even with magical healing, the speed of his recovery exceeded normal limits. Another mystery to add to the growing pile.

Beside him, Thane moved with careful precision, similarly healed but still showing signs of mana depletion in the slight tremor of his hands. That kind of exhaustion went deeper than physical damage.

The Covenant Seal hung from Avian's belt, its weight both physical and metaphysical. The artifact still pulsed with the mingled essence of their combined touch, a reminder of that desperate moment when neither could claim victory alone.

"Interesting."

Father's voice cut through the silence like a blade through silk. Not loud, never loud — Aedric Veritas had never needed volume when presence would suffice.

He sat his throne with casual certainty, studying them with mild curiosity. No dramatic shadows, no overwhelming aura. Just a man in simple black clothes who happened to be one of the deadliest people alive.

"The only ones to walk through that door," he continued, each word precise. "How... unexpected."

Thane straightened despite the exhaustion. Old habits.

"The others?" Thane's voice came out steady. "Where are the others, Father?"

"Failed."

The word dropped into silence. Aedric's tone held no judgment — just acknowledgment of fact.

"Every last one." He leaned back slightly. "Young Marcus's life stone activated four days ago. He encountered something in the Howling Forest that disagreed with his continued existence. Selia Draven lasted longer — three days ago her stone brought her back with injuries that will take weeks to heal. Clarissa made it furthest, I believe. Two days ago, she discovered that the northern ruins hold creatures best left undisturbed."

All of them? Selia with her viciousness, Marcus with his strength — another Marcus, gods, how many Marcuses have I met now? — Clarissa with her patience? All failed?

The absurd thought about the overabundance of Marcuses in his life almost made him smile. Every turn seemed to reveal another Marcus. Guards, aides, merchants, candidates — was it the most popular name of the previous generation?

"The final count?" Avian asked.

"Eight candidates for the final trial. Six returned via life stone activation — alive but defeated. And you two." Aedric's gaze shifted between them with professional interest. "I admit, I expected Clarissa might succeed. She has the mind for it. But the ruins proved... educational for her."

His attention settled on them fully now.

"Show me the Seal."

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Avian pulled the Covenant Seal from his belt, the artifact thrumming between states of matter. The binding from their shared grasp still clung to it like morning mist.

Aedric studied it with interest. "Both touched it. The task demanded one victor, yet you both return with the prize. Explain."

Thane started to speak. "In Malethar's depths, we encountered—"

"Actually," Avian cut in smoothly, "there's not much to explain. We got it. We got back. The details are less interesting than the result."

Aedric's eyebrows rose slightly. Then, surprisingly, he laughed — a short, sharp sound of genuine amusement.

"Bold. I appreciate efficiency in reporting." He stood, descending the dais steps. "Though I am curious about one thing. The Seal can only be held by one person. Its nature doesn't allow for shared ownership. So which of you claims it?"

The brothers exchanged glances. Thane spoke first, his voice steady.

"I relinquish my claim."

"Oh?" Aedric's interest sharpened. "Explain."

"I've been chasing your approval my whole life." The words came out calm, considered. "Every perfect form, every victory — all trying to earn recognition. But in Malethar, I realized something."

Aedric waited, patient as stone.

"I realized I've been chasing the wrong thing. Approval isn't the goal. Finding my own path is." Thane's shoulders straightened. "Avian earned the Seal. He killed an Elder. He burned through his spirit bond to save us both. He acts like an heir when it matters. I'm good at fighting, at shadows and strength. But being heir? That requires something different. Something he has and I don't."

"You're giving up your chance at the succession."

"I'm choosing a different path. My own path."

Aedric studied his eldest son for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice held something that might have been pride.

"Good. You've finally understood what I've been waiting for you to see. The path others set for you will never satisfy. Only the one you forge yourself matters." A pause, weighted. "Your mother would be proud of you for finding your own way."

Thane's composure cracked slightly, eyes bright. "Thank you, Father."

"Don't thank me. Thank yourself for finally seeing clearly." Aedric turned to Avian. "Which brings us to you. The forgotten third son who refused to stay forgotten. One task remains."

Here it comes. There's always one more test.

"Being named heir and being accepted as heir are different things," Aedric said calmly. "The house needs to see strength. The Empire needs to understand what kind of leader will follow me. Tomorrow at noon, in the public arena, you'll face me in single combat."

The words settled like stones in still water.

"You're one of the Five Great Blades," Avian observed. "A Paragon Knight."

"Yes."

"I'm twelve."

"Twelve years old with power that shouldn't exist and skills that defy conventional explanation. Age becomes less relevant when ability speaks."

"What are the terms?"

"They'll be announced tomorrow before the duel begins. Ceremony matters to the masses." He waved dismissively. "But I'll say this — the requirement won't be to defeat me. No one's managed that particular feat, and I don't expect it to change tomorrow."

"Then what will determine success?"

"Patience. Tomorrow will reveal all." Aedric's expression turned thoughtful. "There are some restrictions you should know. That spirit wolf of yours — impressive as she is — won't be permitted. Not that you could use her anyway, given her current dormant state after your... enthusiastic use of her essence."

He knows about Lux's condition. Of course he does.

"Magic, however, is permitted. Use your gravity manipulation if you wish. The elders will complain about propriety, but their opinions stopped mattering years ago."

He turned to leave, then paused.

"The Seal. After tomorrow's duel, place it in the family vault. That was always the point — not to use it, but to ensure no one else could. Some artifacts are too dangerous for careless hands."

"Understood," Avian said simply.

They were dismissed with a gesture. As they walked through corridors toward their separate destinations, Thane spoke quietly.

"In the forest, you moved like someone who'd been killing things since birth. In Malethar, you fought like death was an old friend." He paused. "Why do you want it so badly? Being heir?"

Because I need to know why my best friend put an arrow through my heart. Because five hundred years of rage needs answers. Because the Mountains of Calfont are calling.

"Power opens doors," Avian said.

"Which doors?"

Thane cut himself off before Avian could answer. "Actually, it doesn't matter. I've decided to trust you. Whatever goal you're chasing, I trust it's one that matters."

"It is," Avian said quietly. "It's the only goal that's ever mattered to me. I have to succeed, no matter what."

They reached the point where their paths diverged. Thane headed one way, Avian another.

"Try not to die tomorrow," Thane called back. "Would be inconvenient after everything."

"I'll do my best."

Alone now, Avian let his thoughts spiral as he walked. His body felt strong, healed, ready — but underneath, questions burned.

Someone with divine power capped me at Sixth Tier. That church, during the death mancer incident — the device nearly exploded from the divine energy marking me. Someone in the High Church wants me controlled, limited. Tomorrow I'll need to find a way around those chains.

Heir means access. Archives. Vaults. Secrets. Everything I need to understand what happened five hundred years ago.

The Mountains of Calfont waited. But first, he had to survive tomorrow.

His chances against a Paragon Knight were slim. But he'd faced worse odds.

He'd died facing them, actually.

At least this time I know death isn't permanent. Probably.

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