The Academy gates loomed ahead, stone and iron standing between Avian and whatever clusterfuck waited inside.

They'd left Seren at the Veritas Academy mansion on the way here—a calculated choice. The main family's property in the Academy City was technically neutral ground, sacred enough that even the Church would think twice before raiding it. He'd stationed six guards around her, all veterans from his father's personal forces. Men who knew how to kill quietly and weren't squeamish about who gave the orders.

And he'd given her something else. A small crystal, perfectly clear, enchanted with a distress beacon that would scream directly into his mind if she squeezed it hard enough. Emergency measure, just in case diplomatic immunity wasn't enough to keep her breathing.

"She'll be fine," Kai said, reading his thoughts. "The mansion's probably safer than anywhere else in the city."

"Probably isn't definitely."

"Nothing's definite. Except you walking into trouble the moment we get back."

They passed through the gates, hooves clopping against cobblestone. Students scattered like startled birds, conversations dying as they recognized him. Five days of rumors, speculation, and probably a dozen theories about where Avian Veritas had disappeared to.

"Popular as always," Kai muttered.

"Popularity is for people who give a—"

Movement. Fast. From between two buildings.

Avian's hand went to his sword instinctively, but he didn't draw. Not yet. Just catalogued the approach—female, young, moving with the kind of focused intensity that meant she'd been waiting.

She emerged into the courtyard, and something in Avian's memory clicked into place.

Short dark hair. Military posture. Bandaged knuckles that looked fresh. Young, maybe fifteen. Dark green eyes with flicks of red that caught the light wrong—like embers hiding in forest shadows.

Oh. Her.

The girl from the Underground. The one who'd watched her family die. Seraphina something. Church trainee who'd sworn vengeance over her mentor's corpse while he'd tried very hard not to kill children.

She stopped ten feet away, hand on her sword. Not drawing it, but ready. Her breathing was controlled despite clearly having sprinted here.

"Avian Veritas," she said. Voice flat. Dead. The kind of tone people used when they'd already decided how this conversation ended.

"That's the rumor." He dismounted slowly, deliberately nonthreatening. Kai followed suit, already positioning himself for intervention if needed. "Can I help you?"

"I challenge you to a duel."

The courtyard went silent. Students froze mid-step, mid-conversation, mid-breath. Even the wind seemed to pause.

Avian sighed internally. Externally, he kept his expression neutral.

"No."

"What?"

"No. Don't want to."

"You killed them." Her voice cracked slightly, rage bleeding through. "You murdered them in the Underground. Brother Roland. Sister Amara. You cut them down like they were nothing."

More silence. Thicker now. Heavy with implications.

She doesn't know it was me for certain. She's guessing. Hoping I'll confirm it. Or trying to provoke a reaction that gives it away.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Avian said. "Been away for almost a week."

"Liar!" She took a step forward. "I saw you. Your stance. Your movements. The way you—"

"Saw someone in the dark. Mistake."

"It was YOU!"

"Prove it."

Her hand tightened on her sword hilt. The courtyard held its breath.

"Then fight me. Show me your style."

"No."

"You're afraid."

"I'm practical."

Her eyes narrowed. "Coward."

"Sure. If that makes you feel better."

Something in her snapped. The control she'd been maintaining, the careful restraint—it crumbled like wet paper.

She lunged.

Fast. Faster than Avian had expected. Her sword cleared its sheath in a blur of steel, aimed for his throat with the kind of commitment that meant she'd actually practiced killing strikes, not just sparring forms.

Avian started to move—muscle memory from a lifetime of people trying to kill him kicking in before conscious thought.

But Kai was already there.

Positioned in front, he stepped between them like water flowing downhill, no wasted movement, no hesitation. His hand caught her wrist mid-strike, redirecting her momentum. His other hand found her elbow, controlling the joint. Then he was turning, using her own forward motion against her, and suddenly she was airborne.

The throw was perfect. Textbook. Kai sent her over his shoulder in a controlled arc that had just enough force to disorient without seriously injuring. She hit the ground rolling—credit to her, she knew how to fall—and came to a stop fifteen feet away, sword still in hand but her attack completely neutralized.

Guards appeared from everywhere at once. Six of them, Academy security who'd been positioned around the courtyard. They surrounded Seraphina with weapons drawn, forming a perimeter between her and Avian.

"Stand down," one barked. "Hands off your weapon!"

She didn't let go. Didn't stand. Just stared at Avian with eyes that promised murder.

"You won't get away with it," she hissed. "I'll find proof. I'll destroy you. Whatever it takes. However long it takes. You're going to pay for what you did."

"That's concerning," Avian said flatly. "Guards, she just threatened me."

"Unprovoked?! You murdered—"

"So you claim. With no proof." He shrugged. "Been on the road. Ask anyone."

"Liar! You're a liar and a murderer and I will END you!"

The guards started moving her back, physically restraining her now. She fought them, still screaming.

"I'll hunt you! Every day! Every moment! You think you're safe? You're NEVER going to be safe! I'll learn everything! I'll get stronger! And when I'm ready, I'm going to watch you DIE!"

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They dragged her away, her voice echoing across the courtyard until distance finally swallowed it.

Avian waited until she was completely gone before allowing his shoulders to drop slightly. He glanced at Kai, who was brushing off his hands like he'd just finished a mildly interesting training exercise.

"Bodyguard work," Avian said dryly. "Very impressive."

Kai shrugged. "Someone has to keep you alive."

"Speaking of which, aren't you my bodyguard? Shouldn't you be following me to continue protecting my fragile noble person?"

"You know what," Kai said, already walking away, "I still don't understand why you need a bodyguard. You just refused to fight an angry teenager. Pretty sure you can handle walking across campus without dying."

"My reputation!"

"Will survive. I'm taking a nap." Kai waved without looking back. "Try not to start any wars while I'm asleep."

Avian watched him go, then looked around at the remaining students. They were all staring. Of course they were staring.

"Show's over," he announced to no one in particular. "Move along. Nothing to see."

They scattered, already whispering. By tonight, a dozen versions of what just happened would be circulating through the Academy rumor mill. By tomorrow, it'd be wildly exaggerated.

Whatever. Let them talk. Talking's better than dying.

He headed toward the dormitories, then changed direction. Leontis. Need to check on the bard. Five days was a long time for someone experiencing random historical memories to be left unsupervised.

Cana's POV - Cloveborn Residence, Evening

The window exploded outward in a shower of glass and white-hot flame.

"CANA!"

Carina's voice cut through the destruction, sharp with the kind of authority that came from years of being the responsible sister. The flames died instantly, leaving scorch marks on the stone walls and a hole where expensive imported glass used to be.

"Sorry," Cana muttered, not sorry at all. Her hands still burned with heat, fingers smoking slightly. "Accident."

"That's the third 'accident' this week." Carina stood in the doorway of Cana's room, arms crossed. Red hair—darker than Cana's ember-crimson, more like old blood—pulled back in a practical bun. Burn scars decorated her forearms, some from teaching pyromancy, others from keeping her younger sister alive. "Want to talk about what's actually bothering you?"

"Nothing's bothering me."

"Right. And I'm the Empress of the Eastern Wastes." Carina moved into the room, stepping carefully around scattered books and half-melted training equipment. "We're leaving. Tomorrow. Father's arranging transportation back to the estate."

The temperature in the room spiked ten degrees.

"No."

"Cana—"

"I said no." Cana turned from the ruined window, green eyes bright with more than just reflected flames. "I'm not leaving the Academy."

"The Academy is dangerous right now. Church Knights everywhere. That girl—Seraphina—hunting someone. Those articles about the Demon War causing political chaos." Carina's voice stayed calm, measured. The professor voice. "Father thinks it's better if we—"

"Father thinks I'm still ten years old and can't handle myself."

"Father thinks his youngest daughter shouldn't be in a potential war zone."

"I'm a Fifth Circle mage!" Cana's hair started smoking. "I can melt steel. I've been training since I could walk. I don't need—"

"You're fifteen."

The words hung in the air like a slap.

Cana's jaw clenched. "So what? Avian Veritas is my age and he's—"

"Avian Veritas is a Grandmaster who's killed more people than you've met. That's not a good comparison."

"He's also rude, has no respect for tradition, and actively avoids every social obligation." But there was less heat in her voice now. More... something else. "At least he's honest about it."

Carina's eyes narrowed. "Ah."

"Ah what?"

"Nothing." But her sister's smile held entirely too much knowing. "Just interesting that you've been paying such close attention to his behavior."

"I haven't been—" Cana caught herself, face flushing. "He's impossible to ignore! He told Lady Silviana no to her face. Just 'no.' Like social contracts don't exist!"

"Terrible."

"And he eats from the serving platters at formal events!"

"Horrifying."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"A little." Carina sat on the edge of Cana's bed—one of the few pieces of furniture not currently singed. "Look, I understand you want to stay. The Academy is exciting. There are people here your age who aren't complete idiots. And yes, a certain Veritas heir who finds your perfectly reasonable expectations of civilized behavior deeply amusing."

"This isn't about him."

"Of course not."

"It's not!"

"Then what is it about?" Carina's voice gentled. "Because I need to understand why you're willing to fight Father on this. You never fight him. You follow the rules, maintain perfect behavior, make everyone proud. But suddenly you're destroying windows and refusing to leave a dangerous situation."

Cana was quiet for a long moment. When she spoke, her voice was smaller. "I'm tired of being protected."

"Cana—"

"No, listen." She sat down beside her sister, hands still warm enough to feel through clothing. "Everyone always protects me. Father. You. The family guards. Even at the Academy, people treat me like I'm fragile. Like my magic makes me powerful but also... breakable."

"You are powerful."

"But not strong. Not like you." Cana gestured at Carina's scars. "You earned your place through fire and blood. I just... inherited talent. And everyone acts like that's enough."

"It is enough."

"Is it?" Cana looked at her sister. "What happens when something really dangerous comes? When I actually have to fight instead of just demonstrate pretty flames in controlled environments? Will I be strong enough then? Or will I just be another noble daughter who thought power meant safety?"

She paused, then added more quietly, "And Father sent me those documents. The ones about the Demon War. The real accounts, not the Church versions."

Carina went very still. "He did?"

"Said I was old enough to know the truth about what our family did during the war." Cana's hands clenched. "Do you know what's in those records, Carina? The things they don't teach? The lies?"

"Some of it."

"Then you know why I can't just leave. Not now. Not when the Academy library has restricted sections with more documentation. Not when those articles are coming out." Her voice dropped. "Someone's trying to tell the truth about what really happened. And Father's documents line up with what Truth's Witness is publishing. That's not coincidence."

Carina was quiet, studying her younger sister with new understanding.

"The Academy is dangerous," she said finally. "But you're right. Danger is where you learn if you're actually strong or just powerful." She paused. "Though I reserve the right to incinerate anyone who tries to hurt you."

"Does that mean I can stay?"

"That means I'll talk to Father. Again. With more fire if necessary." Carina stood, brushing ash from her robes. "But you have to promise me something."

"What?"

"If things get truly dangerous—not 'exciting Academy drama' dangerous, but 'people are actually dying' dangerous—you listen when I say run."

Cana nodded. "I promise."

"Good." Carina headed for the door, then paused. "Oh, and Cana?"

"Yeah?"

Her sister's smile turned mischievous. "Do you just want to stay to figure out that Veritas heir, or is there some other reason?"

The words hit like a punch to the chest.

"I—that's not—he's just—"

But Carina was already gone, her laughter echoing down the hallway.

Cana sat alone in her scorched room, face burning hotter than any of her flames.

Stupid. Stupid Carina with her stupid observations and her stupid being right about everything.

She wasn't staying because of Avian Veritas.

She wasn't.

Except maybe she was curious. About someone who treated rules like suggestions and social expectations like jokes. Someone who'd danced with her—badly—and made her laugh instead of trying to impress her. Someone who looked at fancy parties the same way she felt about them: like torture with better music.

Someone honest in a world built on pretty lies.

The temperature in the room climbed another five degrees.

Outside her ruined window, the Academy City sprawled in evening darkness. Somewhere out there, Church Knights patrolled. Seraphina hunted. Articles spread dangerous truths. And a certain storm-eyed heir probably didn't give a single damn about any of it.

Cana smiled despite herself.

The Academy was dangerous.

Good.

She was tired of being safe.

Avian's POV

The teaching assistant quarters were quieter than the student dormitories—less screaming, fewer explosions, significantly less property damage. Leontis's room was on the second floor, modest but private.

Avian climbed the stairs, noting the strange hum in the air. Not magical, exactly. More like... resonance. The Codex's influence bleeding into the surrounding space.

He stopped in front of Leontis's door and knocked twice.

"Enter, but know that the protagonist requires proper dramatic timing for social interactions!"

Avian opened the door. Leontis sat at his desk, the Resonance Codex open before him, looking surprisingly... calm. Not manic. Not overwhelmed. Just peaceful, like someone who'd finally gotten a good night's sleep after years of insomnia.

"You're alive," Avian observed.

"Very much so! And the protagonist has had REVELATIONS!" Leontis stood, gesturing dramatically but with less manic energy than usual. More controlled. "Sit, sit! This changes everything!"

Avian moved into the room, closing the door behind him. The Codex hummed on the desk, pages covered in cramped handwriting that seemed to shift in the candlelight.

"What kind of revelations?"

Leontis's expression shifted—part theatrical excitement, part genuine awe, part terror at the implications of what he'd discovered.

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