The following morning came slower than most.

The air still had that lingering scent of burnt wood and blood; she could even taste the dust that moved in the air, too difficult to be cleaned away completely.

Morena had barely gotten any rest; she tried to sleep, she really did, but she couldn't help but get lost in thought whenever she lay down. She couldn't help but think about the symbol she had found and the church.

Throughout the day, she went about her tasks as usual, going over reports, patrolling the house, and checking up on details, making sure everything was getting back on track.

Yet while her body worked on autopilot, her mind was drifting elsewhere, the books and details of the past that she had read about in the archive. She couldn't help but go over the history of the church and the kingdoms from before.

All of which the church had existed in, with different names, different forms of worship, but still the same church that carried on through each one. It wasn't mere years, it was Kingdoms, through the fall of countless before, and the rise of countless more.

And one common factor she found amongst all those details was the way the church operated.

They would always do whatever it took to remove anything that stood in their way, be it a noble family, another religious group, or even the kingdom itself.

The church had always crushed its enemies and grown stronger from devouring their leftovers. They had done this so long that Morena couldn't even begin to imagine just how powerful the church was.

Look at it this way; she was struggling to deal with a small branch of them in a border city, just how powerful would the entire church be? A big one from a larger city?

Or even the capital?

It was such a haunting thought that she couldn't help but feel grave inside, the feeling of sheer overwhelming isolation, knowing that the entire Kingdom was in their palm.

She was in her study doing work as usual when she heard the door open, looking up slightly to see who had entered without even knocking.

Her father stepped in slowly, leaning slightly on his cane. His wounds hadn't fully healed yet, but knowing him, no one could have stopped him from walking once he decided to.

He wore a fresh shirt, though it was clear he had dressed himself with effort. There hadn't been enough time to rehire maids since most of them were killed, and the ones that survived were given time off to spend with their families to help with the trauma.

The poison still lingered, and his eyes carried the exhaustion of someone who had lost much more than blood.

"You're working very hard for someone injured."

"Can't waste too much time."

"I can tell."

He gave a faint smile before walking over to the couch in the room and sat down.

"The last time I saw you look like this was before your first duel. You were so much younger then, but I guess this part of you hasn't changed much."

Morena looked up from her work for a moment and thought back to the memory the man had mentioned; it was before she had even come to this world.

It was when she was but a child, still training with hopes to become a warrior, before her hopes had faded.

But it was in the past.

Her gaze was fixed on the parchment in her hands, the report of the scouts who had finished sweeping the estate perimeter to make sure nothing out of the usual was there.

She placed it down and looked over to her father with a sigh.

"Father, I think I know who was behind this."

Hearing her words, the man's mood instantly shifted to a more serious one; the rage in his heart towards those who caused a bloodshed in his estate hadn't faded.

He wanted to find them even more than Morena; to inflict upon them the punishment they deserve for the things they had done.

"Who?"

"The Church."

Morena didn't hesitate to speak of her suspicion, or rather, her confirmation. Even without clear evidence, too much pointed towards the church for it to not be them.

"It fits too perfectly. The timing, the methods, the coordination. The bandits were a distraction; they drew out our men, left the house open, and whoever attacked used that chance. This was just one attempt to wipe us out; they sent too few this time; next time it will be worse."

Her father's eyes narrowed slightly.

"The Church, you say."

"Yes."

Morena leaned forward, her hands clasped together.

"I questioned the bandit leader we captured, and he said they were paid by someone to do it. They wore gold and clothing much better than a commoner would, and he used the word 'masters.' Plural. Then there's this."

She held out the piece of cloth with the faint mark on it.

"Most people won't recognize it, but it's an old Inquisition seal used by the church. It hasn't been used publicly for decades, but it's theirs. I saw it in one of our archives."

He took the cloth in his hands and studied it for a long moment. His thumb brushed over the ink-stained pattern, his expression grew darker as the thought settled in his mind.

"I fought beside Church banners once."

His tone grew quiet.

"Back when I was still young and too proud to understand what power really meant. Back then, I thought they were faithful that were simply trying to do the common folk good; however, I've come to see how they truly treat the people."

He crushed the cloth in his hand tightly, grinding his teeth for a moment before relaxing them, and placing the cloth on the table.

"They are many things, Morena, but careless isn't one of them. If they want us gone, it means we stepped on their toes, and they will get rid of us by any means."

"I believe they've already taken half the council into their pocket."

Morena replied.

"The rest won't act against them; we're alone here. They want us erased quietly, and they nearly succeeded."

Her father looked up at her.

"What do you have in mind. I don't believe you would mention this without already coming up with a plan of your own."

Morena hesitated for a moment, then finally spoke the words that had been building in her mind all night.

"I think... we should leave."

Upon hearing her words, her father froze, his brow opening slightly before narrowing once more.

"Leave?"

"Yes. We gather the men willing to go with us, take what we can, wealth, resources, knowledge, and relocate the family. There's no future for us here. The Church has too much influence in this kingdom. Even if we rebuild, they'll destroy us again when it suits them."

He frowned deeply, leaning back in his chair, running his hand over his face.

"You want to abandon everything we built? Everything our family bled for?"

"It's the only way for the family to survive."

Her voice was quiet, but firm in conviction that this was the only path.

"We can't win a war against people we can't even see."

"The Ravenscrofts have stood here for generations."

He rebuked, but he wasn't angry with his tone, just pressing.

"Our bloodline carved its name into this soil through blade and will. Your grandfather fought wars to earn this land, and his father before him. And now you would have us run from it?"

Morena stood, her eyes meeting his.

"I would have us live to fight again."

The silence that followed was long, filled only by the faint creak of the house settling around them.

Her father's expression softened slightly. He knew from the moment she mentioned leaving that she was right; he just wanted her to convince him. He wanted to see just how strong her conviction was, and she proved to him that it was very strong.

"You speak like a soldier."

"You raised me like one. You taught me that when an army faces a force it cannot defeat, it doesn't charge blindly."

She paused for a moment, thinking back to the memories of him teaching her as a child.

"It retreats. Regroups. Reorganizes. Not out of fear, but out of strategy. That's what this is, a retreat, not surrender."

Her father leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"And where would we retreat to? Another kingdom? That would be within the reach of the church."

"The Empire."

She didn't hesitate.

"They have their own issues, but the Church doesn't hold any power there. It's dangerous, yes, but it's also an opportunity. We can start over, rebuild with stronger foundations. The Empire values knowledge, talent, and strength, not just name."

He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"You make it sound simple. The Empire isn't kind to outsiders. We'd have to buy our way in, make alliances, and establish new trade routes. It could take years."

"Then we'll spend years."

She said.

"If that's what it takes, then that's what we'll do. But staying here means we'll die one piece at a time, waiting for the Church to strike again."

Her father's gaze lingered on her; she saw a hint of pride, yet sorrow mixed in it.

"You sound just like your mother."

Morena blinked, surprised.

"Mother?"

He nodded slowly.

"She wasn't born noble, you know. She was like the wind, free and wild; she came and went as she pleased. I never told you this, but I actually met her on a battlefield, of all places. I offered her gold to leave before the fighting started, and she threw it back at me."

He smiled faintly at the memory.

"Said if men like me started thinking with our heads instead of our swords, maybe the world wouldn't burn so often."

Morena couldn't help but smile, just slightly.

"She sounds like someone who'd have hated me."

"She'd have admired you."

He said softly.

"You got her stubbornness, her fire. You got mine too, but hers burns cleaner."

He grew quiet again, looking toward the ruined courtyard through the broken window.

"Leaving this land feels like burying her twice."

Morena's hand tightened at her side.

"We're not burying anyone, Father. We're protecting what she built. What you built. If the Church wants us gone, then let them find empty halls while we build something greater elsewhere."

He didn't answer right away. His fingers drummed against the table, slow and thoughtful.

When he finally spoke, his voice was firm and certain.

"Do you truly believe we can start over? That we can rebuild what we've lost?"

"Yes."

She didn't hesitate.

"But only if we act now."

He leaned back, letting out a long breath.

"You really won't rest until you convince me, will you?"

"No."

She said simply.

"I learned that from you too."

A quiet laugh escaped him.

"You're impossible."

He looked at her again, studying her face.

"Give me time to think."

She nodded.

"I'll begin preparing regardless."

He didn't stop her this time.

As she left the room, she felt the weight of her decision settle in her chest. There was no turning back now; escaping the church wasn't the only reason she wanted to go to the Empire; she also wanted to learn more about Wizards.

And the Empire was the only place she knew of where she could do that.

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