The room was heavy with silence, broken only by the soft creak of my chair as I leaned forward, elbows resting on my knees, trying to process the whirlwind of revelations Renar had dropped on me. He sat across from me, arms crossed, his sharp gaze unwavering as though daring me to ask the questions swirling in my mind. I could hardly believe what had transpired tonight, let alone the fact that Renar was here, alive, and sharing in my impossible fate.

“How long?” I finally asked, my voice low and tinged with disbelief. “How long have you known that I’m... regressed?”

Renar’s lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk, the kind that used to infuriate and reassure me in equal measure during our missions. “Since the day you arrived at the academy,” he said plainly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

I blinked. “How could you possibly know that? We never crossed paths in this life before then.”

“True,” Renar admitted, leaning back in his chair with an air of calm that contrasted sharply with my growing agitation. “But regression leaves traces if you know what to look for. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak, even the way you handle situations that would normally throw a boy your age into a panic—it’s all a dead giveaway.”

I bit back a retort, knowing he wasn’t wrong. My time at the academy had been filled with moments where I’d relied on memories from my past life to navigate challenges that should have overwhelmed me. Still, the idea that I’d been so transparent made me uneasy.

“You suspected all of that just from observation?” I pressed, narrowing my eyes.

Renar chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Observation confirmed it, but I had other reasons to believe. I recognized the signs, Illiad, because I’ve lived them myself. It’s not every day you meet someone else who’s been sent back.”

I sat back, trying to digest this new piece of the puzzle. My mind raced with possibilities, questions forming faster than I could articulate them. “What happened that made you regressed as well?” I asked, the word escaping before I could stop it. “How did it happen? Did the Rithanes kill you, too?”

Renar didn’t answer right away. He studied me for a moment, his gaze searching mine as if weighing how much to tell me. Finally, he sighed, the sound carrying a weight of old memories.

“No,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “They didn’t kill me. But what they did to you... it set everything in motion. You have no idea how much happened after they dragged you off to that cell.”

I felt my throat tighten at his words, the old anger and bitterness bubbling to the surface. “Then tell me,” I demanded. “What happened after? What did they do?”

Renar’s eyes softened, and for a brief moment, I saw the man who had been my tactician, my best friend, and my brother in arms. “It’s not an easy story to tell,” he admitted. “But you deserve to know everything.”

He leaned forward, his voice lowering as he began to recount the grim tale of our previous life, a story I wasn’t sure I was ready to hear but knew I couldn’t ignore.

The room felt smaller with every word Renar spoke, as if the weight of his revelations was pressing down on the walls themselves. I stayed silent, my hands clenched into fists, my mind preparing itself for the truths I’d long buried and the ones I hadn’t yet known.

**

The Grim Tale of Their Previous Life

Renar’s words drew me into a storm of memories, some mine, some unknown, but all heavy with the bitterness of betrayal and loss. His voice, steady yet tinged with an unshakable anger, painted a vivid picture of the chaos that had unraveled after my execution had been decreed.

“After they condemned you,” Renar began, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the room, “the barracks were never the same. You were the rising star, Illiad. The one everyone believed in—whether they admitted it or not. Your trial wasn’t just a sentence for you; it was a message to everyone who dared to question the Rithanes' authority.”

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay rooted in the present as he continued.

“Loryn Avaris,” Renar said, his tone softening for a moment, “did everything he could to plead for your life. He begged Cedrin Rithane himself, swore to your loyalty, even offered to resign his position if it meant sparing you. But Cedrin...” Renar’s voice hardened, his eyes narrowing with contempt. “Cedrin saw you as a threat, a symbol of the rising tide of commoners breaking the chains of tradition. He wouldn’t be swayed—not by Loryn, not by anyone.”

Hearing Loryn’s name sent a pang through my chest. I could picture him, standing before that snake Cedrin, his loyalty torn between his sense of justice and the chains of his oaths.

“Loryn didn’t stop there,” Renar continued. “When his pleas failed, he came to us—me, Jarek, Tessara. He begged us to find a way to free you. He said if we couldn’t save you, none of us would be safe for long.”

I gritted my teeth, the memory of my time in that cold, dark cell vivid in my mind. “And?” I asked, my voice sharp despite myself.

Renar sighed, his hands balling into fists. “We tried, Illiad. By the gods, we tried. But the Rithanes weren’t just thorough; they were paranoid. The prison was a fortress, and every guard was handpicked for their loyalty to the nobles. Breaking you out would’ve been a suicide mission—and Loryn knew it.”

I closed my eyes, trying to quell the anger bubbling within me. “So what did he do?”

“That’s when he told us about the Tome of Regression,” Renar said, his voice lowering.

My eyes snapped open, confusion mixing with the frustration in my chest. “The Tome of Regression?”

Renar nodded grimly. “An artifact from the old wars, lost to time—or so everyone thought. Loryn had come across it years before, during one of his missions, but he kept it hidden. He didn’t trust the Rithanes or the crown with its power.”

“What kind of power?” I asked, though a part of me already knew.

Renar’s gaze locked with mine, his expression grim. “The power to send someone back. To undo their fate.”

The words hung heavy in the air, their weight pressing down on me like a tidal wave.

“We didn’t have many options,” Renar continued. “With your execution set and the Rithanes tightening their grip, the Tome was our last hope. We couldn’t save you in this life, but we thought... maybe we could give you another chance in the next.”

I struggled to breathe under the enormity of his words. The memories I’d thought were divine intervention—the voices urging me to rise again, the glimpses of my own death—were suddenly cast in a new light.

“You... used the Tome?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Renar nodded, his expression unreadable. “It wasn’t easy. The ritual was ancient, complex, and risky as hell. We had to wait until...” He trailed off, his jaw tightening. “Until after they... executed you.”

My breath hitched, but Renar pressed on.

“We retrieved your body,” he said quietly. “The guards thought we were there to prepare it for burial, but we had other plans. Tessara handled the preparations while Jarek and I kept watch. We performed the ritual as quickly as we could—there was no room for error.”

I felt my stomach churn, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place in my mind. “The voices I heard,” I murmured, more to myself than to Renar. “The ones urging me to take revenge... that was you. All of you.”

Renar gave a faint, bitter smile. “We didn’t know if you’d hear us. But we had to try.”

I clenched my fists, the weight of their sacrifice crashing down on me like a tidal wave. “And the others?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Jarek, Tessara... what happened to them?”

Renar’s smile faded, his expression darkening. “That... is where the story takes a turn you won’t like.”

I braced myself, knowing that whatever he was about to say would only deepen the scars I’d carried since my regression.

**

A Fatal Trap

Renar’s expression darkened, and I could feel the shift in his demeanor—like a storm brewing on the horizon, its weight pressing down on us. He drew a slow breath, his voice heavy with sorrow as he continued.

“We thought we had more time,” he began. “After the ritual, the plan was simple: scatter and lay low. We knew the Rithanes would be suspicious when your body vanished, but we thought they’d write it off as thieves or radicals. We underestimated them, Illiad. They moved faster than we ever imagined.”

I could see it in his eyes—the haunted look of someone who’d lived through a nightmare and barely come out the other side.

“The night after the ritual,” he said, his voice tight, “we were ambushed. The Rithanes must’ve caught wind of something—maybe a whisper, maybe a loose end we missed—but they came for us in force. Soldiers, mages, and those damned inquisitors. They didn’t ask questions. They didn’t offer mercy.”

The image formed in my mind, unbidden and vivid. Tessara, Jarek, and Renar caught in the middle of it all, their trust in each other their only shield against the tide.

“They set fire to the safehouse,” Renar continued. “We thought it was just another precaution, a place to lay low for a few days, but the Rithanes turned it into a death trap. They surrounded us, cut off every exit, and then set the place ablaze.”

My stomach churned, the thought of Tessara and Jarek fighting for their lives in that inferno twisting like a knife in my gut.

“Tessara...” Renar’s voice faltered for a moment, but he pressed on. “She was the first to realize what was happening. She tried to salvage what she could from the ritual—notes, artifacts, anything—but there wasn’t enough time. The flames spread too fast.”

I clenched my fists, the anger rising in me like a tide. “And Jarek?” I asked, my voice barely steady.

“Jarek held the line,” Renar said, his gaze distant as if he could see it all unfolding again. “He knew we had no chance of fighting our way out, but he refused to go down without a fight. He bought us time—time for Tessara to finish her work, time for me to... to do what I had to.”

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I didn’t need him to spell it out. “The Tome of Regression,” I said quietly.

Renar nodded. “The ritual wasn’t perfect, Illiad. It took more out of us than we expected, and we weren’t prepared to use it again. But in that moment, we didn’t have a choice. The flames were closing in, and the Rithanes’ soldiers were at the door. Tessara and Jarek knew what had to be done.”

I could feel the weight of his words settling over me, the enormity of their sacrifice suffocating.

“They stayed behind,” Renar said, his voice barely a whisper. “Tessara to seal the ritual, Jarek to hold the line. I... I didn’t want to leave them, Illiad. But they made me.”

I looked at him, the pain in his eyes mirrored in my own. “They gave their lives for this,” I murmured.

“For you,” Renar said, his gaze locking with mine. “For us. For a chance to end this once and for all.”

The anger in my chest burned brighter, tempered by the grief threatening to consume me. “And you... you succeeded?” I asked, needing to hear it from him, to know their sacrifice wasn’t in vain.

Renar hesitated, his jaw tightening. “Barely. The ritual was rushed—imperfect. I... I don’t know how much of it was luck or fate, but it worked. I woke up two years before your regression. Two years to prepare, to gather what I could and figure out what happened. Two years to find you.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and I struggled to find the right response. They had given everything—sacrificed everything—for this. For me. And now it was my responsibility to see it through.

I drew a slow breath, steeling myself. “They didn’t die in vain,” I said firmly, meeting Renar’s gaze. “We’ll make sure of it.”

Renar nodded, the weight of our shared grief and determination binding us together. “We will,” he said. “No matter what it takes.”

**

A Head Start

As Renar spoke, his tone grew quieter, his expression somber. “I was sent back two years before you, Illiad. Two years to watch and wait, not even knowing if you’d actually return.”

I stared at him, struggling to process the weight of his words. Two years. That explained how he’d managed to blend seamlessly into the academy and uncover so much. “You had two years to figure all this out?” I asked, my voice low, yet tinged with disbelief.

Renar nodded, his eyes darkened by memories. “At first, I didn’t even know if the ritual worked. I went to Werfowl shortly after regressing, hoping you’d remember me. But...you weren’t the Illiad I knew. Not yet. It was heartbreaking seeing you, knowing the weight of your execution and the betrayal you’d faced, yet unable to speak of it.”

The thought of Renar standing before me as I went about my oblivious life in Werfowl made my chest tighten. He’d been carrying all of this alone, while I was just an ordinary boy, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing ahead.

“Why didn’t you try to tell me then?” I asked, though part of me already knew the answer.

“You wouldn’t have believed me,” Renar replied with a bitter smile. “You were living a simple life, far removed from the battlefield and the schemes of the nobles. Burdening you with the truth before you remembered anything would’ve been pointless. Maybe even dangerous.”

He wasn’t wrong. If some stranger had shown up at the Grant General Store spouting tales of reincarnation and betrayal, I’d have thought him mad—or worse, a threat to my parents.

“But then,” Renar continued, his voice tinged with cautious relief, “you applied for the academy. That was the moment I knew something had shifted. This wasn’t part of the timeline we lived before. You were supposed to stay in Werfowl, Illiad. Yet here you were, defying fate, as if your soul remembered its purpose even before your mind did.”

I clenched my fists. He was right; in my first life, I had never left Werfowl until Loryn Avaris recruited me into the military. But this time...this time I’d carved a new path, one that led me straight into the heart of the academy and toward the enemies who betrayed me.

“Once I confirmed it was you,” Renar said, his tone firm, “I started keeping tabs on you. Watching, waiting for the right moment to make contact. But I couldn’t reveal myself too soon—not without understanding the bigger picture. And not without being sure I could trust you to remember.”

The pieces began falling into place, though it didn’t make the puzzle any less daunting. “So you’ve been here, what? Gathering information? Spying on the academy’s inner workings?”

Renar smirked. “Exactly. As a third-year cadet, I’ve had access to more than most. I know the instructors who can be bribed, the students who will sell out their peers for a shot at glory, and the corridors where secrets are whispered. That’s how I learned about Kalden and the others—and why I’ve been keeping an eye on them for weeks.”

His words carried a sense of accomplishment, but there was no pride in his expression. This wasn’t a victory. It was a duty he’d shouldered alone, one born of necessity and sacrifice.

“And the warning parchments?” I asked, recalling the cryptic messages that had guided me thus far.

Renar’s smirk widened, a flicker of his old self shining through. “Consider them breadcrumbs. Just enough to keep you alert and steer you in the right direction. I had to be subtle—I couldn’t risk scaring you off or tipping my hand to the wrong people.”

I exhaled sharply, leaning back against the wall. Everything Renar had done—the warnings, the patience, the years of solitude—it all made sense now. But it also raised more questions than it answered.

“Two years,” I murmured. “That’s a long time to wait.”

Renar’s smirk faded, replaced by a look of quiet determination. “It was worth it, Illiad. Because now we’re both here, and we’re not alone anymore.”

The weight of his words settled heavily on my shoulders. For the first time since my regression, I felt a spark of hope—not just for revenge, but for the chance to set things right.

**

A New Alliance

For a moment, silence lingered between us. The air felt heavy with unspoken words, yet charged with an energy I hadn’t felt in years—not since the battlefield. Renar leaned against the wall beside me, arms crossed, his expression a mixture of determination and something softer, like relief.

“I’ll admit,” Renar started, breaking the quiet, “I wasn’t sure how you’d take all this. I thought you’d demand proof or think I’d gone mad.”

I shook my head, the corners of my mouth twitching upward in a faint, wry smile. “Coming from someone who’s lived through betrayal, execution, and now a second life, I’d say I’m past doubting things that sound impossible.”

Renar chuckled, his gaze shifting to the dimly lit corridor ahead. “Fair enough.”

It was surreal, standing here with him, speaking as if the years of blood and loss hadn’t wedged themselves between us. My memories of Renar were sharp: his calculated strategies on the battlefield, his biting wit during downtime, and the unwavering loyalty that tied him to our ragtag group. Yet now, seeing him here, older and more seasoned by his journey, I felt an ache in my chest—one of gratitude and sorrow all at once.

“So,” I said, breaking the momentary lull, “we’re doing this together now?”

Renar turned to me, his expression serious but not unkind. “Do you even have to ask? I didn’t come this far to sit on the sidelines.”

A surge of warmth flickered in my chest. “I’m glad,” I admitted. “If there’s anyone I’d trust to have my back, it’s you.”

“And I yours,” he replied, his tone steady. Then his smirk returned, lighter but no less sharp. “Besides, you’ll need me to keep you out of trouble. You always did have a habit of charging in headfirst.”

I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped me. “I prefer to think of it as decisiveness.”

Renar’s eyes gleamed with amusement. “Whatever you want to call it, we’ve got work to do. The academy, the nobles, and House Rithane—none of them are going to make this easy.”

His mention of House Rithane brought a cold edge to my thoughts. “No,” I said, my voice quieter but firm. “But this time, we’ll be the ones who decide the rules of the game.”

Renar’s smirk softened into a genuine smile. “That’s the Illiad I know.”

We stood in silence for a moment longer, the weight of our shared mission settling over us. I couldn’t ignore the sense of finality in his words—or the unspoken promise that no matter what lay ahead, we wouldn’t face it alone.

“First things first,” Renar said, pushing himself off the wall. “We need to lay low for now. That little stunt with Kalden and the Black Pendant will have people asking questions.”

“Agreed,” I replied. “And we need to figure out who else might be involved. Kalden wasn’t acting alone, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that conspiracies like this don’t just stop with the foot soldiers.”

Renar nodded. “Exactly. We’ll dig deeper, one step at a time. But for now...” He glanced toward the end of the hallway, where the faint glow of torchlight marked the way back to the dormitories. “You should rest. Big plans require clear heads.”

I arched a brow at him. “And what about you?”

“I’ve got a few loose ends to tie up,” Renar said cryptically, his tone light but guarded. “Don’t worry, I’ll be around.”

I studied him for a moment, trying to read the layers of intent beneath his words. But before I could press further, he gave me a knowing smile and started walking away.

“Renar,” I called after him, and he paused, turning just enough to glance over his shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.” The word came out quieter than I intended, but I meant it with every fiber of my being.

His smile widened, soft and almost wistful. “Don’t thank me yet, Illiad. We’ve got a long way to go.”

With that, he disappeared down the corridor, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

As I turned to head back to my dorm, a sense of purpose settled over me. The road ahead would be treacherous, but for the first time in this life, I didn’t feel like I was walking it alone.

**

Back in my dorm, I sat by the window, the faint glow of the moonlight casting shadows across the room. The cool night air brushed against my face as I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. My mind was a storm, swirling with memories of the past and uncertainties of the future.

Renar was alive. Not only alive but aware of everything that had transpired—everything I thought I alone carried. The weight I had borne since my regression now felt lighter, shared. And yet, the revelations he brought only opened more questions.

I reached into the inner pocket of my coat, pulling out the small recording device I had used to capture Kalden’s betrayal. The voices etched into it were proof of the corruption that had seeped into the academy’s core. But as much as it was a victory to stop them, I couldn’t shake the bitterness that lingered.

Kalden’s words echoed in my mind.

“You wouldn’t understand… You’ve always been gifted, while the rest of us claw for scraps.”

I closed my eyes, frustration tightening my chest. He wasn’t wrong about one thing—I didn’t understand what it felt like to lack ability or purpose. But his choice to betray his peers, to sell himself to the nobles in pursuit of something so fragile and hollow, was something I could never condone.

“Foolish,” I muttered, setting the device on the desk. “They’ll use you until you have nothing left and then cast you aside.”

But Kalden wasn’t the true enemy. No, he was just another pawn in a much larger game. I clenched my fists, my knuckles brushing against the edge of the desk. The nobles’ influence ran deep, their strings weaving through every corner of this kingdom. Unraveling their grip would be like pulling apart an intricate tapestry—one wrong move, and the whole thing could collapse.

A faint knock at the door broke me from my thoughts. For a moment, I hesitated, wondering who it could be. Renar, perhaps? Or someone looking to settle a score after tonight’s events?

“Who is it?” I asked, my voice steady but sharp.

“Relax,” came Renar’s voice from the other side. “Just me.”

“Thought I’d check to make sure you hadn’t collapsed from exhaustion.”

I gave him a dry look. “I’m fine, Renar. Just…thinking.”

He chuckled, dropping into the chair by the desk. “Thinking too much has always been your problem, Illiad. If you’re going to brood, at least do it with a drink in hand.”

Despite myself, I smiled faintly and sat across from him. For a moment, we sat in silence, the weight of the day hanging between us.

“So,” I said finally, my gaze meeting his. “What now?”

Renar tilted his head, a shadow of seriousness crossing his face. “Now? We rebuild.”

“Rebuild?”

He nodded. “Our allies, our resources, our strategy. The enemy hasn’t changed, Illiad, but the game is different this time. We’ve got time—time to prepare, time to plan. Let’s use it.”

His confidence was infectious, a spark reigniting in the ashes of my doubts.

“And the academy?” I asked. “You’re a third-year now. You’ll be graduating soon.”

Renar smirked, his tone light but laced with determination. “Graduating doesn’t mean disappearing. The academy’s only the start, Illiad. What we do here sets the stage for everything to come.”

I nodded, leaning back in my chair. “Then let’s make it count.”

“Now you’re talking.”

The two of us shared a small smile, a silent agreement passing between us. This wasn’t just a pact of revenge—it was a promise to fight for something greater, to carve out a future where people like us could stand against the rot at the kingdom’s core.

The night deepened, and Renar eventually took his leave, reminding me to get some rest. Alone again, I gazed out the window, the moonlight casting its pale glow over the academy grounds. For the first time since my regression, I didn’t feel entirely alone.

With Renar by my side, the path ahead seemed less daunting. The battles would be brutal, the enemies ruthless—but together, we had a chance.

I closed my eyes, letting the faint hum of night settle over me. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for tonight, I allowed myself a rare moment of peace.