Jezeri stood outside S Copperhand’s campus residence, calm after itting to the decision she had made ba the park. Night had desded in full now, and she ted it a sign that the sky above her head was empty of clouds, allowing the stars she loved so much to sparkle above her.

  A brief look to either side of the road outside the s’s residend, seeing no one, fidently made her way over to the fence alongside the simple, unguarded gate. People, let alone ss, rarely paid attention to Sentinels beyond a curshey assumed that ainel wandering around the campus was likely on official Academy business — likely seg it against potential threats. That assumption worked to Jezeri’s advantage as she looked the fence over, seeking a spot to pull herself up and over that would minimize the ce she would attract attention. This part was a bit frustrating, actually. She had the stats to just jump over, but doing so would likely attrauch attention.

  Jezeri heard a dog bark in the distance, and she froze. All at ohe weight of the as she was about to take pressed heavily against her. But, despite her position in the Sentinels, it was not guilt she felt — it urpose. The star elf kly why she was here, even if the idea of riskiatus as a Sentinel for someone else would have seemed absurd to others.

  Because, at some point over this past week, she had e to see Krion as someone who mattered to her. And she still wasn’t sure when that had happened.

  The dog ceased barking, and Jezeri moved swiftly, sg the wall with practiced ease. Her fingers found purchase oal oop, and within moments, she erched atop it, surveying the grounds oher side of the fence, making sure she hadn’t missed anything. The Copperhand residence, while quite a bit smaller than Banor, was heless vish, with ly trimmed hedges and a cobblestoh leading to the entrance. Lanterns glowed softly along the path, casting light across the manicured garden.

  No movement. Nothing out of pce.

  She dropped near silently to the ground, nding in a crouch. Her senses sharpened, attuo every rustle of leaves and whisper of wind. The air smelled of jasmine and damp earth. Using old skills, she moved like a shadow, skirting the edges of the garden, avoiding the pools of light cast by the nterns.

  Reag the side of the building, Jezeri pressed herself against the wall, her firag the edges of a narrow window. It was locked, but that was a minor invenience. Pulling out a sleool that she hadn’t used in years from the pouch at her side, she deftly worked the meism. A soft click signaled her success. She thahe System that skills sted forever once learned.

  Lifting the window gently, Jezeri slipped inside, nding lightly on polished marble floors. Once she verified there was no one else in the hall, she reached back to close the window in order to cover her tracks. That done, she focused on her surroundings, trying to think through which dire she should head in. The walls, painted in gaudy shades of gold and crimson, gleamed uhe soft glow of dles. Much like in Banor that she remembered, the Copperhand residence had decorative pieces c every avaible surface, but where those belonging to House Bcksword reflected the history of the entire house, the ones she was now looking at were of a singur focus.

  Marble busts of S Copperhand himself, detailed tapestries depig him training for war or pursuing private studies, and even an obnoxiously rge portrait of the man at the end of the hall she was walking down, his smug grin captured in painstakiail.

  Jezeri couldn’t help it. Her lip curled in disdain uhe Sentinel mask she wore. The things she saw were garish and, worse, self-indulgent. S Copperhand had not designed his home to wele guests or to provide fort but simply to trumpet his own infted sense of importance. You’d think he was an heir of the Empire the amount of times he had thrown his face up on the walls.

  Banishing the s’s questioaste in decorations aside, Jezeri moved quickly but cautiously, her steps as silent as she could keep them as she navigated the halls. She softly opened each door she passed to check if it was the s’s office. If there was evidence of his involvement in the assassination attempt on Krion, it would be there.

  She ghosted down another hallushing her skill ih to the limit, her sharp eyes also sing for servants. Given how early in the year it was, and that this was only a residence of a first-year, she did not think there would be anyone else in the house at this time of night but the s and his bodyguard, but she had been surprised before. Thankfully, she notio one, so she was able to make good time.

  The end of the hall opened into a vish sitting room filled with even maudy decorations — velvet drapes, jeweled vases, and another portrait of S Copperhand, this time dressed in the armor of a Legion captain. As if he had ever seen battle. Jezeri suppressed a scoff, thinking about how the arrogant s probably ted a military parade as bat experience.

  Turnitention away from the painting, she spotted a door fnked by ornate ns. It had a solid, authoritative look that suggested it led to an office or study. Hopefully, this was the room she was looking for.

  She approached the door cautiously, sing fns of magiuraps. Once again, it was not something she expected to find, but it was better to be too cautious than not cautious enough.

  Her firaced the edges of the doorframe, feeling for hidden runes or pressure ptes. Nothing. She crouched low, cheg the floor for any sign of subtle entments. Still nothing.

  Satisfied with her examination, the star elf gripped the handle and slowly eased the door open. It didn’t creak, which she appreciated. She slipped inside, closing the door softly behind her.

  The room acious but cluttered, with shelves lining the walls, crammed high with ledgers, scrolls, and books. A rge desk domihe ter of the room, its surface covered with papers, writing implements, and even a gaudy quill set adorned with gold filigree. The sheen of it indicated either the s ed it after each use or, more lightly, had it dispyed as another decoration. She had guessed right. This was the s’s office.

  Jezeri’s eyes swept the room, cataloging every detail. The st of aged part mingled with the faint tang of ink. A siern glowed on the desk, casting shadows across the walls. The sust have fotten to take it with him when he had turned in for the night, as there was no area of the room for him to hide in if he were still present.

  Much like the window she had picked earlier, Jezeri hadn’t done something like this in a while, but she remembered the best approaches to finding information based on what Mistress Bcksword had taught her. As she moved swiftly over to the desk, she briefly thought how it was strao think about her previous Mistress without any of the old emotions she had e to expect. Perhaps she had started to move on. Or perhaps she had simply moved her attention onto the current s of House Bcksword.

  Setting her musing aside, Jezeri methodically worked her way over the scattered piles of papers and dots cluttering the desk. Scrolls, parts, and a single ledger detailing financial dealings from before his attendao the Imperial Academy sat in disanized chaos on over a third of the desk itself. She skimmed over lines of text, searg for anything that could link S Copperhand to the assassination attempt on Krion. It was slow, meticulous work, but Jezeri thrived on precision. Years as a Sentinel had honed her instincts, even if they hadn’t given her greater practice with the skills she had picked up while a servant of House Bcksword. Her touch was gentle, careful not to leave traces of disturbance, and she made sure to returhing to exactly where she had found it.

  No lu the top of the desk, so she reached down aly pulled open the first drawer. Inside was a stack of correspondence — letters from minor nobles seeking the favor of House Copperhand, additional mundane financial records, and a few invitations to social events when the s left the campus for the summer break. Nothing incriminating.

  The sed drawer yielded much the same.

  Jezeri’s patience remaieady. This was a game of persistence, and she was well-versed in that. Though she did wish she had some of those spells that true Imperial spies had at their bed call. The css required to use them was rumored to be rare ra least, but a girl could dream.

  Sliding opehird drawer, she found another colle of letters, these oied together with twine. Her eyes narrowed as she reized the crest of House Bright on several of them. Sliding the topmost letter free, she ope up and sed through its tents. The nguage was flowery and i, but the i was clear enough to one who had been taught about such things: veiled discussions of “handling obstacles” and “ensuring favorable outes.” Unfortunately, while damning to her, S Copperhand’s correspondeh House Bright wasn’t specifiough to tie him directly to the Krion’s near-assassination.

  Jezeri cursed under her breath and tinued searg. Her fingers brushed against a faint ridge at the bottom of the drawer, immediately drawing her full attention. There you are.

  She pressed down firmly, and a previously hidden partment slid open. Inside was a single part, the ink still fresh. Jezeri’s firembled slightly as she lifted the part closer to read. She sed the dot, all her focus turo the words, and a cold fury gripped her chest.

  The list tained on the part was simple but damning: rows of names, each s's house carefully noted beside them alongside a hat they were willing to act to see the removal of the Bcksword s by any means necessary. Over two dozen houses were represented, from the illustrious Archducal House Bright at the top to the lowly Baro House Ironveil. The implication was clear—these ss had indicated their cooperation in a coordinated effort to kill Krion Bcksword.

  There was no signature, but the handwriting was Copperhand’s—she reized it from other dots scattered across the desk. Jezeri's lips curled into a grim smile. Now she had her proof.

  She slipped the part into her armor, her mind already turning to the best route to get to Banor quickly. As she turo leave the office, a faint noise reached her ears—the soft shuffle of footsteps outside the office door. Her muscles tensed, instincts honed by years of training kig in.

  The handle began to turn.

  Eyes on the door, she reacted too slowly when a flicker of movement in the shadows caught her attention.

  Something brushed her side, and then a sudden crackle of energy hummed through the air, followed by a searing jolt that tore through her body. Jezeri vulsed, muscles betraying her as she crashed to the floor, her stun rod’s electric pulse knog the breath from her lungs. Her vision blurred, and white-hot pain radiated through her limbs.

  Cursing herself inwardly, Jezeri struggled to move, but her body refused to obey. She hadn’t even sehe arrival of anyone else in the room.

  Boots thumped across the carpeted floor, and a figure loomed over her—a young h a grim expression, holding the stun rod she had foolishly let him lift from her side. She reized him. It was S Hector Draven, one of Copperhand’s sycophantic ckeys, though he was clearly unhappy with what he had just done.

  More footsteps echoed through the room as S Copperhand and several other ss eheir grating ughter at seeing Jezeri crumpled on the floor filling the office.

  Chadwick stared down at Jezeri, his lips curled in a self-satisfied sneer. “Good work, Hector. Looks like we’ve caught ourselves a pretty rat.”

  Jezeri groueeth, fury simmerih her pain.

  Chadwick crouched down beside her, his breath foul as he spoke directly into her ear. “You’ve been a very naughty Sentinel, sneaking into my private office like this. I could report you, you know. Turn you over to your own kind for punishment.”

  Jezeri gred up at him, struggling to get her muscles under trol, and refused to give him the satisfa of a response.

  “But…” Chadwick’s voice turned oily, “I’ve been hearing iing things from my friends. They say a certaiinel has been seen following the Bcksword from a distance for almost a week now.” His grin widened. “A Sehat bears a striking resembo you.”

  He stood, pag dramatically as several of the other ss snickered, though Jezeri was aware enough to note Hector was not among them. “That little bastard doesn’t belong at this Imperial Academy. He’s not a proper oo soft, too clueless, and from a House that is dying. If he had any sense, he would return that bunnykin to me and leave before someone kills him.”

  He walked over to Hector and pulled the Sentinel’s stun rod from his grip. Striding over, the s leaned casually against the edge of his opulent desk, a cruel smile now on his face as he twirled the stun rod in his hand.

  Her side was still numb from the impact of the stun rod, though she forced herself to sit upright, gring at from where she had proped herself up against the wall. She nearly froze when the fool iently turned off the stun fun of the rod with his twirling of the on in his hand.

  “You’re a stubborn one, aren’t you?” Chadwick said mogly, noing the length of the rod against his palm. "I'll admit I expected… more from a Sentinel. Perhaps a lecture about the rules of the Academy? You lot usually stick to your lofty principles, but I wonder how much of that remains when things get... painful."

  Jezeri said nothing, her mask-like expression more unyielding than ever despite the bruises already f beh her armor. She’d been traio endure much worse than the p of some pompous s with an infted ego and violent tendencies. She focused on pushing the numbness away. All of her speed and strength was going to be o escape.

  "Nothing to say?" Chadwick's eyes narrowed. "Fine. Let's talk about your little friend, then—the Bongrel. How exactly did he survive the Dungeon? That was supposed to be an easy fix to a stubborn problem, a here he is, still breathing." He sneered. "What did you do? Teach him some Sericks? Or maybe the Academy’s rules aren't so ironcd after all?"

  Jezeri's silence remained resolute, her gaze unwavering. She knew better than to rise to his bait. Any slip could give him leverage, and S Copperhand was the type to poun weakness like a rabid wolf. Instead, she focused on rec trol of her muscles as quickly as she could.

  Hector, now standing uneasily he door, shifted unfortably. "Chadwick, this is going too far," he said, his voice strained. “Blood and ash, she's a Sentinel. We shouldn't even be doing this. You don't mess with the Sentinels."

  Chadwick shot him a withering gre. "Groine, Hector. She's not a Sentinel anymore—not really. She's just a trespasser now, caught red-hahat makes her fair game."

  Hector's lips thinned into a tight lihis is wrong, and you know it. Just turn her over to the Sentinels. You o let this go.”

  "Let it go?" Chadwick echoed, ughing bitterly. "You're too soft. That attitude is why you'll never rise beyond a mere footnote in Imperial history, if that.”

  "I'm not soft," Hector retorted, his fists ched. "But I'm not a sadist either. I won't be part of this."

  Jezeri watched as Hector turoward the door, his steps firm despite the tension thiing the room. Chadwick made no move to stop him, waving dismissively as though Hector were an insignifit nuisance.

  "Run along, Hector," Chadwieered, calling after the other s. "Leave the real work to those of us with ambition. Don’t worry, our arra will still be honored.”

  Hector did not respond, but he walked a bit more stiffly. The other sade no move to stop Hector as he exited the office. Jezeri made a hat at least Hector knew when a line had been crossed. That being said, despite the pain, she was curious about the arrahat had beeioned.

  As the door clicked shut behior, Chadwick's expression darkened. "Now then," he hissed, turning back to face her, "yoing to tell me everything you know about Krion Bcksword—or I'm going to enjoy breaking you piece by piece."

  Jezeri’s lips curled into a faint, defiant smile. The numbness had almost faded pletely. “You don’t scare me, S Copperhand," she said quietly, her voice like steel. “I won’t say a word.”

  “Fine,” he spat. He leaned closer, his voice dripping with sadistic pleasure. “I suppose I’ll just have to enjoy hitting you instead.”

  Jezeri’s jaw ched, but she refused to give him the satisfa of begging or pleading. Pain was an old panion, one she had endured and survived tless times before. If Chadwick thought he could break her, he was sorely mistaken. She would just biime and wait for an opening to escape.

  The first blow nded against her ribs, sending a shockwave of agony through her torso. She gritted her teeth, suppressing a cry. The sed blow struck her hip, then another across her back. Each strike recise, fueled by Chadwick’s twisted delight. Distantly, she he jeering of the others in the room and several calls to break her Sentinel mask with the stun rod.

  The thirteenth strike made her legs buckle. By the fifteenth, she rawled on the floor, breath ragged. She coughed, and she tasted blood. That was not good. Her limbs trembled, muscles ag from the abuse, but still, she refused to surrender.

  Chadwick stood over her, ughing breathlessly. "Still scious? Impressive. But not for long." He raised the stun rod once more, frustration darkening his expressios disabling energy refused to spark yet again. "Useless thing. How does this damn rod even—"

  Jezeri’s fiwitched, adrenaline igniting o reserve of strength. With a sudden burst of motion, she shot her arm forward, seizing the stun rod from his grip. The movement made pain blossom anew, but she weled it—it reminded her she was still alive and could still escape.

  “Let me show you,” she rasped, voice hoarse but defiant.

  Chadwick’s eyes widened in shock as she pressed the cealed switch along the rod’s grip, activating the stun fun with a crag surge of energy that he had actly turned off earlier. Before he could take more than a half-step backward away from the Sehe stun rod arced through the air, crag blue as she smmed it into Chadwick's side with all the force she could muster. His body vulsed violently, and he colpsed to the floor in a spasming heap.

  The ss he door froze for a heartbeat, disbelief pstered across their faces. Jezeri didn't wait for them to recover. She called on a Sentinel ability buried deep iraining—a desperate maneuver called Guardian Dash.

  Her body blurred with sudden, explosive speed as she barreled toward the cluster of ss blog the doorway. Two were practically thrown into the walls as she came rushing through. Oempted to swing a on at her as she passed, but she was already beyond his reach, her momentum unstoppable. The door loomed ahead, closer, each step driven by sheer willpower.

  Pain screamed through every nerve, but Jezeri g to one clear image—the window she had ehrough. The edges of her vision darkened as her injuries demanded surrender. Her thoughts blurred, but that single image remained bright and steady, guidioward freedom.

  There you have it, I hope you enjoyed seeing some things from J-65's/Jezeri's perspective!

  If you want to support me as an author, please sider following my work, sharing the story with others, leaving a review, or cheg out my Patreon, where you read 10+ chapters ahead! Oime support via Paypal or Ko-fi is also greatly appreciated and will help me head towards being able to write more chapters per week. Thank you for reading my story!