They didn't sleep that night.
Varyan and Seris ran through the servant's passages, across the roof, down into the old foundations beneath the academy. Anywhere Venn's allies couldn't find them.
Dawn found them in the abandoned scriptorium—a forgotten room where monks had once copied texts by candlelight. Dust covered everything. Cobwebs hung like curtains.
Seris sat against the wall, her Chaos fragnt still flickering at the edges of her shadow. Her mismatched eyes were hollow.
"I've never killed anyone before," she whispered.
"Neither have I," Varyan said. He looked at his hands. The blood had dried, but he still felt it. "Does it get easier?"
[「ECHO」: Emotional trauma detected. Recomnd rest and stabilization.]
"I don't know," Seris admitted. "But Venn would have killed us. And then he would have harvested our fragnts and done the sa to others."
"That doesn't make it feel better."
"No. But it makes it necessary."
They sat in silence for a long ti. The scriptorium's only window was high on the wall, too small to escape through, but it let in a thin column of gray light. Dust motes danced in the beam.
Varyan pulled out the two keys—the rusted one from the restricted section and the one Headmaster Corvin had given him. Identical. Ancient. Warm to the touch.
"The Roverc vault," he said. "Corvin said my great-grandmother sealed sothing there. Sothing that could save my bloodline."
Seris leaned forward, studying the keys. "Two keys for one vault. That ans two locks. Or two people needed to open it."
"Or one key for the outer door and one for the inner."
"We should go. Today. Before the Lord Harvest sends soone else."
Varyan nodded. But his mind was on the headmaster's warning: *Trust no one. Not even .*
Corvin had known about the fragnt. About the Harvesters. About the vault. He had been a fragnt-bearer himself once, or so he claid.
But why had he never stopped Venn? Why had he let the Harvester operate for years under his nose?
[「ECHO」: Headmaster Corvin's file shows no known Harvester affiliation. But his inaction is suspicious. Recomnd caution.]
"Agreed," Varyan muttered.
"What?" Seris asked.
"Nothing. Just thinking."
They moved again at midday, when the academy's halls were busy with students changing classes. It was easier to blend in. Varyan had stolen a servant's cloak from a drying line—brown, hooded, nondescript. Seris wore her usual gray dress, but she kept her head down.
The main gates were guarded by two bored-looking sentries. Neither paid much attention to students leaving. Dragonhold Academy wasn't a prison; students could co and go freely during daylight hours, as long as they signed out.
Varyan signed a fake na—"Corin Ashford"—and Seris signed as "Lira Toren." The sentry didn't glance twice.
Outside, the mountain air was cold and thin. The Roverc estate was three miles east, nestled in a valley that had once been prosperous but was now overgrown and forgotten.
They walked in silence. The road was empty.
[Chaos signature: none detected within 100 feet. Order signature: Varyan only.]
No stalkers. No Harvesters. For now.
The Roverc estate appeared at the end of a winding dirt path. It had once been a grand manor—three stories, stone walls, tall windows. Now the windows were broken. The roof had collapsed in places. Vines crawled over everything like greedy fingers.
"Charming," Seris said.
"It's not supposed to look like this," Varyan said quietly. "My mother showed paintings. It was beautiful once."
"Before the decline?"
"Before the Harvesters, probably. Or whatever orchestrated our fall."
They circled the manor to the back, where a crumbling fountain stood in the center of a weed-choked courtyard. Varyan's great-grandmother had built the vault beneath the fountain. The journal said so.
He found the entrance—a rusted iron hatch half-hidden by overgrown rose bushes. The thorns tore at his sleeves as he pushed them aside.
The hatch was locked. Two keyholes.
Varyan inserted the first key. It turned with a groan of ancient tal. The second key went into the second hole. Also turned.
With a deep grinding sound, the hatch swung open, revealing a dark stone staircase leading down.
"After you," Seris said.
"Ladies first."
"I'm thirteen. And I have the Chaos fragnt.
I'll go second."
Varyan smiled despite himself. He took out his dagger and descended.
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