Valentina awoke with a soft groan, her body cramped under the thin blanket that offered little protection against the first winter cold that crept through the thin walls of her tiny attic room. Her eyes opened reluctantly, still hazy from sleep but immediately filled with the gnawing fear that had accompanied her into slumber.


    "Good morning, little Weaver," Vyxara''s voice whispered in her head, soft as velvet, but with an undertone that made Valentina shudder. "Are you ready for our big day?"


    Valentina sat up, shivering. Her gaze wandered to the tiny window, where fine ice crystals had drawn patterns on the glass. The intricate lines and swirls reminded her involuntarily of the complex Essence patterns she had studied in her lectures.


    "What exactly are you planning, Vyxara?" Valentina asked quietly, her voice barely more than a breath in the stillness of the morning. "You still haven''t told me what your plan is."


    A soft laugh echoed through her mind. "Where would the surprise be? Just trust me. Have I ever disappointed you?"


    Valentina snorted softly. "You mean, apart from the fact that you bound yourself to me instead of the pendant?"


    "Details," Vyxara replied, amused. "Think of it as a happy coincidence. Now we can work much more closely together."


    Valentina shook her head and stood up, her bare feet jerking back as they touched the ice-cold wooden floor. She walked to the window and breathed against the glass, her warm breath melting the ice crystals for a moment before they immediately froze again.


    Outside, Bridgewater was covered in white. Snow covered the roofs and streets, transforming the otherwise bustling town into a silent winter wonderland. The Burning Tower stood snow-free, its flames a beacon against the gray morning sky.


    "I don''t know if I can do this, Vyxara," Valentina whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by the enormity of what lay before her. "What if something goes wrong? What if someone finds out what we''re up to?"


    "Shh, little Weaver," Vyxara reassured her, "Remember why we''re doing this. Your family, your future – everything depends on it. Do you really want to give up before we''ve even started?"


    Valentina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Images flashed before her mind''s eye: her father''s worried face as he wrote the letter with the news of the debt. Her siblings looking up at her, full of hope and expectation. Faustus Boarfend mocking her, calling her a bumpkin who would never get on at university.


    "No," she finally said, her voice firm despite the trembling in her hands. "You''re right. I can''t give up now."


    "That''s my girl," Vyxara purred contentedly. "And don''t worry, I''ll be with you the whole time. Together, we''re unbeatable."


    "What should I say to Barnaby?" she asked as she stood in front of the small, stained mirror and brushed out her long brown hair. "He''ll be suspicious if I show up again already."


    "Let me worry about that," Vyxara replied. "I''ll guide you step by step. Just trust your instincts – and me."


    Valentina looked at her reflection in the mirror. The young woman looking back at her looked somehow older, more mature. Her eyes seemed darker, more mysterious. Was it really her? Or was it Vyxara''s influence that manifested itself in her appearance?


    Valentina stood in front of her narrow closet and critically examined the meagre contents. Her fingers stroked the coarse fabric of the few clothes she owned.


    "Take the red one," Vyxara whispered in her head. "It accentuates your figure and makes you look more mysterious."


    "I thought we were just going to buy Distilled Essence... or steal it," Valentina muttered, but reached for the red dress anyway.


    A soft laugh echoed through her mind. "In this world, everything is a negotiation. The better you look, the better your chances to get what you want."


    Valentina slipped into the dress, the cold wool clinging to her skin. She tied her hair into a loose knot and looked at herself in the mirror. The young woman looking back at her looked a lot more self-confident than she felt.


    "Perfect," Vyxara purred contentedly. "Now just a touch of Essence to enhance your natural radiance."


    Valentina hesitated. "Isn''t that a waste? We hardly have anything left."


    "Trust me," Vyxara replied. "We''ll have more afterward. This small investment will pay off."


    Valentina opened her bottle of Distilled Essence with trembling hands. The scent reached her nose as she put a tiny drop on her fingertips and gently dabbed it on her cheeks and neck. She immediately felt the warmth spreading through her skin, a soft glow that softened her features.


    "So," she said quietly, "what now?"


    "Now, my dear," Vyxara replied, "let''s go to Barnaby and get what we need."


    Valentina nodded resolutely, grabbed her worn woolen cloak, and left her room. The corridors of the university were still quiet, with only the occasional sleepy student on their way to breakfast.


    The cold winter air hit her like a blow as she stepped outside, and her breath formed little clouds before her face. The streets of Bridgewater lay silent and white before her, with only the occasional footprint in the fresh snow.


    As she walked through the snowy alleyways, Valentina felt her nervousness growing. "What if Barnaby gets suspicious?" she whispered. "What if he sends us away?"


    "Easy, little Weaver," Vyxara placated. "Remember, you''re not the shy country girl anymore. You''re an aspiring Essence Weaver, a talented and ambitious young woman from the university. Show him this side of yourself."


    Valentina took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. She turned into a side street where the fresh snow still lay untouched. The houses here were older, the facades weathered and overgrown with ivy. At the end of the alley loomed Barnaby''s Necessities, a leaning, two-story building that looked as if it might collapse at any moment.


    Valentina stopped, her heart hammering in her chest. "I don''t know if I can do this, Vyxara. What if someone catches us?" she whispered.


    "Of course you can," the demon encouraged her. "Remember why we''re here. For your family, for your future. You are stronger than you think."


    Valentina nodded silently, gathered all her courage and stepped towards the door. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the doorknob.


    At that moment, the door opened from the inside and a young man stepped out. Valentina knew him by sight. He was an advanced student, and in his arms he held a bundle that looked suspiciously like forbidden books, the nasty titles on the book spines leaving little doubt. He froze when he saw Valentina, his eyes widening in shock.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    "I... I..." he stammered, hastily trying to hide the books.


    Valentina felt a smile steal onto her lips. It was strangely reassuring to see that she wasn''t the only one moving outside the rules.


    "Don''t worry," she said gently. "I didn''t see anything. I wasn''t even here."


    The student exhaled with relief, mumbled a hasty "Thank you," and hurried away, his footsteps soon fading in the fresh snow.


    "See?" whispered Vyxara. "You are not alone. Everyone here has their secrets, their problems. Everyone does what it takes to survive."


    Valentina nodded, new determination flowing through her. Valentina stepped fully into the store, the door closing behind her with a soft ding. The warmth of the room enveloped her like a blanket, a welcome contrast to the biting cold outside. The smell of old leather, dust, and sweat filled her nose.


    "Barnaby?" she called into the room.


    The massive shopkeeper emerged from behind a rickety pile of old books, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he recognized Valentina. "Well, if it isn''t our university girl again," he grumbled as he brushed the dust off his stained apron. "Twice in such a short time. Either you''re desperate, or you''ve fallen in love with my charming personality."


    Valentina felt the blush rise to her face. "I... I really need more Distilled Essence. Urgently," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.


    Barnaby snorted. "Of course you do. Why else would someone like you come into this place voluntarily?" He grimaced. "But we''ve already talked about this. I can''t come down with the price."


    She waited desperately for Vyxara to tell her how to proceed. Hadn''t she spoken of a plan? Valentina stood there transfixed, her heart racing. She felt Vyxara''s presence in her mind, waiting for an instruction, a hint, something.


    "Calm down, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered at last. "Let''s start gently. Talk about supply and demand, show him you understand the market situation."


    Valentina took a deep breath and forced herself to smile. "I understand that demand has increased, Barnaby. Especially now that the Greystone Competition is approaching. But surely we can find a compromise?"


    Barnaby raised a bushy eyebrow. "Oh? And what kind of compromise do you have in mind, girl?"


    "Good," purred Vyxara. "Now offer him your help. He seems overwhelmed with his work."


    "Well," Valentina said hesitantly, "I can see that you have a lot to do. Perhaps I could help you? Sorting or cataloging?"


    Barnaby snorted, but his look became thoughtful. "You, a fine university student? What do you know about working in a store like this?"


    Valentina straightened up, Vyxara''s encouragement giving her strength. "I grew up on a farm, Barnaby. Hard work doesn''t scare me."


    The old man looked at her for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. "All right, then. You can start by unpacking that box there. It’s from an inheritance." He pointed to a large dusty wooden box in the corner. "But be careful. Some of it is... delicate."


    Valentina nodded eagerly and set to work. She spent the next half hour unpacking strange artifacts and books while Barnaby rummaged through his files and occasionally glanced over at her.


    "Well done," praised Vyxara. "You''ve piqued his interest. Now we just have to wait for the right moment. Or create one."


    Just as Valentina was lifting a particularly heavy book out of the box, it slipped out of her hands and fell to the floor with a thud. She gave a startled gasp and hastily bent down to pick it up.


    "Careful!" barked Barnaby, hurrying over to her. "That''s a rare copy of ''Forbidden Arts of Essence Manipulation''. It''s worth more than the cost of your entire academic career!"


    Valentina froze, half lifting the book. Her eyes fell on the title, and she felt her heart skip a beat. It was the same book she had… borrowed from the university library. The book that told her how to summon demons.


    "Steady on, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered. "This is our chance. Show some interest in the book."


    "I''m... I''m so sorry," Valentina stammered, her voice trembling slightly. "I didn''t know... I mean, I''ve heard about it before, but I thought it was just a legend."


    Barnaby took the book from her and looked at it with a strange gleam in his eye. "Oh, it''s very real. And very dangerous in the wrong hands." He looked up at her, his gaze suddenly sharp. "What do you know about it?"


    Valentina swallowed hard. "Just rumors," she said quietly. "They say it contains knowledge of Essence manipulation far beyond what''s taught at the university."


    Barnaby grunted in agreement. "That''s an understatement. This book could turn a mediocre Essence Weaver into a master. Or a madman, as the case may be."


    He looked at Valentina with renewed interest. "You seem to know more than you''re letting on, girl."


    "Now!" urged Vyxara. "Offer him a deal!"


    "Maybe," Valentina said, her voice softer and a little hoarse, "we could make a deal? I really need the Distilled Essence. I''d give anything for it."


    Barnaby''s eyes narrowed. "Anything, you say?" He took a step closer, his gaze intense. "That''s a dangerous word, girl. Are you sure you know what you''re getting yourself into?"


    Valentina held his gaze, sensing Vyxara''s encouragement in her mind. "Yes," she said firmly. "I''m sure of it."


    A slow smile spread across Barnaby''s face, revealing yellow teeth. "Very well," he said, his voice suddenly velvety soft. "Then let''s... negotiate."


    He put the book aside and stepped even closer to Valentina. She could smell his breath, a mixture of garlic and something sour. "What exactly are you willing to do if I sell you the Distilled Essence for less?"


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. She had a vague idea of where this was going, but she wasn''t ready to admit it to herself. "I... I could work for you," she suggested, her voice trembling slightly. "For free, of course. I could clean the store, do inventory, whatever you need."


    Barnaby laughed, a harsh, unpleasant sound. "Oh, girl. You''re cute, I''ll give you that. But I don''t need any help at the store. What I need is..." He let his gaze wander over her body, slow and suggestive.


    At that moment, Valentina felt Vyxara welling up in her mind. The demon’s presence became stronger, more urgent. "I knew it! Now is the moment, little Weaver," she whispered, "You must seduce him."


    Valentina froze. "What?" she whispered in horror, so quietly that Barnaby couldn''t hear. "You can''t be serious!"


    "Oh yes, I am," Vyxara replied. "Think of it as a lesson in the art of seduction. A very useful skill for an aspiring Essence Weaver."


    "But... but I can''t!" Valentina protested inwardly. "I have no idea how to... how to..."


    "That''s why I''m here," purred Vyxara. "I''ll guide you step by step. Trust me, little Weaver. This is the only way to get what you need."


    Valentina felt her stomach turn. She desperately needed the Distilled Essence. But the thought of seducing Barnaby... She shuddered.


    "Well?" Barnaby''s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "What''s your answer, girl? What are you willing to do?"


    Valentina swallowed hard and forced herself to look directly at Barnaby. She felt Vyxara''s presence in her mind, like a warm hand gently but firmly guiding her in the right direction.


    "I... I''m ready to show you how grateful I would be for your help," she said softly, the words seeming foreign to her as if someone else were speaking.


    Barnaby''s eyes widened and darkened with desire. "Oh? And how exactly would you want to do that?"


    Valentina felt the blush rise to her face. She opened her mouth, unsure of what to say, but Vyxara was quicker.


    "Tell him you''re ready to show him how skillful your hands are," the demon whispered. "Say it with a smile, little Weaver. Let him think it''s your idea."


    Valentina hesitated for a moment longer, then she gave in. With a trembling smile, she said: "I could show you how skilled my hands are. Not just at Essence Weaving or unpacking boxes."


    Barnaby grinned broadly, his yellow teeth flashing in the dim light of the store. "Well, that does sound like an interesting offer." He stepped even closer, his body now only inches from hers. "What exactly would you be up to with those skillful hands?"


    Valentina felt panic rising inside her. She had no idea how to respond. But Vyxara was there again.


    "Put your hand on his chest," the demon instructed. "Slowly, gently. Let your fingers glide over the fabric of his vest. Then offer him more."


    Valentina followed the instructions with trembling fingers. She placed her hand on Barnaby''s chest, feeling the coarse fabric of his vest and the warmth of his body underneath. She forced herself not to flinch when she detected the sour smell of his breath.


    "That," she whispered, her voice hoarse with suppressed disgust, "and more. If you''re willing to give me what I need."


    Barnaby''s eyes darkened even more. He placed his large, calloused hand over hers. "Oh, I think we can work something out," he murmured. "Come with me behind the counter. There we can... negotiate undisturbed."


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. She wanted to flee, wanted to scream, wanted to undo all this. But Vyxara''s voice in her head was relentless.


    "We have no choice, little Weaver," the demon said gently but firmly. "Just think of it as one of our nightly fantasies. Because in reality, it''s not much different."


    With a final, desperate swallow, Valentina nodded. "Yes," she said quietly, more to herself than to Barnaby. "I''m ready."


    And with these words, she let the old shopkeeper lead her behind the counter, away from the prying eyes of the windows and into the dark shadows.