Valentina blinked, still dazed from sleep, as the realization hit her: Today was the day. The first round of the Greystone Competition was coming up.
She sat up with a soft groan, her body protesting against the abrupt movement. The last few weeks of intensive preparation had left their mark. Dark circles appeared under her eyes, betraying the countless nights she had spent awake, reading, and learning.
"Good morning, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered in her head, the demon''s voice velvety and seductive as ever. "Don''t worry. You are ready. You will outshine them all."
Valentina swallowed hard. Was she ready? She let her eyes wander through the small attic that served as her home. Stacks of books and notes piled up on her rickety desk. Next to them the precious bottle of Distilled Essence – her hard-won prize from Barnaby. The memory of that day still made her shudder.
"I hope I''m ready," she murmured, more to herself than to Vyxara. "I have no other choice."
She got up and went to the small, stained mirror next to the door. Was there still a trace left of the Valentina who had come to Bridgewater full of hope and naivety? No. Maybe.
"You''ve changed," Vyxara confirmed her unspoken thoughts. "You''ve grown, become stronger. Just think of all you''ve learned."
Valentina nodded slowly. She thought of the forbidden books, of the many exercises in Essence Listening that had given her insights into a world full of secrets and intrigue. All the information she had overheard about the upcoming competition.
"It still feels a little wrong," she whispered, the words barely audible.
Vyxara''s laughter echoed through her head, warm and mocking at the same time. "You know the others don''t play fair. Certainly not Faustus and his rich friends. Think of how he lets his rich father buy him the exam answers. I''d be surprised if he doesn''t cheat in this competition as well."
Valentina bit her lip. The demon was right, wasn''t it? She thought of her family back home, of the debts that weighed on them. Could she afford those constant moral qualms, maybe let them paralyze her in a decisive moment?
With a shake of her head, she turned away from the mirror and began to get dressed. She chose her best dress, dark red and simple, but well-maintained.
"But I have to do something about Innogen and Crispin," she murmured, "They''re worried about me."
"Of course they are," Vyxara replied gently. "They are your friends. But they don''t fully understand what''s at stake for you. Just spend some time with them after the competition, and they''ll calm down, you''ll see."
Valentina sighed deeply as she tied her long brown hair into a tight knot. She missed the days when everything was simpler. When her biggest worry was having enough Distilled Essence for the next exercise.
A knock on the door made her flinch. "Val? Are you awake?" It was Crispin, his voice muffled by the old wood.
"Yes, I''ll be right there!" she called back, hastily making her final preparations.
She reached for her worn leather bag, which contained her notes and Essence tools. She hesitated for a moment, then opened the drawer of her bedside table and pulled out the small wooden amulet her brother had carved for her. It depicted the Burning Tower, the symbol of the Martyr. Valentina stared at it for some time, unsure whether she should wear it for good luck.
"Sentimentality won''t help you," Vyxara whispered. "You need a clear head."
With one last glance, Valentina put the amulet back in the drawer. The demon was right. She couldn''t rely on good luck today anyway.
When she opened the door, Crispin stood in front of it, his face full of nervousness and anticipation. "I thought maybe you wanted to go to the competition together. Are you as nervous as I am?" he asked with a wry smile.
Valentina took a deep breath. "Yes. But I don''t think I could be possibly even better prepared than I am."
Together, they made their way through the corridors of the university. There was an atmosphere of tense expectation everywhere. Students hurried past, some chattering excitedly, others lost in concentrated silence.
When they reached the main courtyard, where the participants in the competition were to gather, Valentina felt her heart beat faster. This was the moment she had been working towards for so long. All the sacrifices, all the compromises – here, for the first time, she would find out whether they had been worth it.
"There''s Innogen over there," Crispin said, pointing to a group of students at the other end of the courtyard.
Valentina followed his gaze and saw her friend waving at them. She hesitated for a moment. Was she ready to look her friends in the eye with all the secrets she now carried with her?
"Cheer up, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered encouragingly. "Just remember why you''re doing all this. Don''t let anything or anyone stop you."
With a deep breath, Valentina straightened her shoulders. This was her chance, and she would take it.
"Come," she said to Crispin, her voice firmer than she felt. "Let''s go join the others."
Together, they walked across the courtyard towards the start of the competition. The main hall of the university building, where gatherings were usually only held on special occasions, had been transformed into a veritable temple of Essence Weaving for the Greystone Competition. Valentina stood in the entrance for a moment, overwhelmed, her eyes trying to process all the impressions.
High arched windows let in the morning light in shimmering columns in which fine Essence currents flowed like dust in the sun. Banners with the Greystone family crest hung on the walls – a silver crescent moon on a gray background, the moon''s eyes blood red. Dozens of tables were arranged in a pattern that looked like a giant Essence diagram in itself.
"Impressive, isn''t it?" Vyxara murmured in her head. "Do you see the fine streams of Essence flowing through the room, guided by the table arrangement? That''s no coincidence. They''re testing us before the competition has even begun."
Valentina nodded imperceptibly and let her gaze wander over the other participants. She saw nervous faces everywhere, trembling hands sorting Essence tools. But there were also those who were unpacking their expensive, custom-made instruments with a confident expression.
A boy with fiery red hair particularly caught their attention. He was handling a set of finely chiseled silver that sparkled in the sunlight. Each individual piece was probably worth more than anything Valentina owned.
"Look at that," Crispin whispered beside her, his voice a mixture of both awe and envy. "Ignacio Flintside is taking part. His father is one of the richest merchants in Vandercourt."
Valentina felt her stomach tighten. Could she really stand up to such competition?
"Remember, little Weaver," Vyxara murmured, "that true power does not lie in shiny tools. You have something much more valuable – knowledge and the will to use it."
Encouraged by these words, Valentina continued on her way. But suddenly, she froze. At the other end of the hall stood Faustus Boarfend, surrounded by his usual entourage. When their eyes met, his face twisted into a sneer. He leaned over to one of his friends and whispered something, causing the whole group to burst into laughter.
"Just ignore him," Crispin said quietly and put a hand on her arm reassuringly. "He''s not worth it."Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Before Valentina could answer, they heard a familiar voice behind them. "There you are at last!"
Innogen approached them, her long blonde hair braided into a sophisticated plait. She wore an elegant dress in her family''s colors, proudly displaying her noble lineage. But her smile was warm and sincere as she hugged her friends.
"How are you feeling, Val?" she asked, her eyes full of concern. "You look a bit pale."
Valentina forced herself to smile. "I''m all right. Just a little nervous, that''s all."
Innogen nodded in understanding. "We all are. But I''m sure you''ll be great. You''ve worked so hard these past few weeks."
A stab of guilt ran through Valentina at these words. If only Innogen knew how hard she had really worked. And not only in the conventional way.
"Listen," she said hastily to change the subject, "let''s spend some time together after the competition. No matter how it turns out, we should celebrate getting through the first round."
Crispin and Innogen exchanged a surprised look. "That would be wonderful," Crispin finally said, a hopeful smile on his face. "We''ve hardly seen you lately."
Valentina felt her heart tighten. She had neglected her friends, she was aware of that. "I know, and I''m sorry for that. I promise that will change."
At that moment, a loud chime sounded, silencing the conversations in the hall. All eyes turned to the podium at the front of the room, where several professors now took their places.
"Dear participants of this year''s Greystone Competition," Professor Emberfell began in her penetrating voice, which effortlessly filled the entire room. "Please take your seats. The first round will begin shortly."
A murmur went through the crowd as the students hurried to their assigned tables. Valentina took Innogen''s and Crispin''s hands again briefly. "Good luck, you two," she said quietly.
Once at her table, she began to unpack her shabby tools. Her hands trembled slightly as she carefully placed her vial of distilled Essence on the table.
"Stay calm, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered. "Remember what we practiced. You''re stronger than all of them."
Valentina took a deep breath and tried to shake off her nervousness. She let her gaze wander through the hall one last time. She saw tense faces everywhere, hands drawing Essence patterns in the air, lips silently repeating formulas.
Her gaze lingered on Elara, who was standing alone in a corner, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She looked so lost, so frightened, that for a moment, Valentina felt the need to go to her and comfort her.
"Concentrate," Vyxara admonished. "You can''t afford to show weakness. Not now."
Valentina bit her lip and averted her eyes. The demon was right. This was a competition, not a place for compassion.
Suddenly, she felt a change in the air. The streams of Essence in the room began to thicken, to pulsate.
Professor Emberfell stepped forward again. "Welcome to the first round of this year''s Greystone Competition. Before we begin, let me explain the rules."
The tension in the room was almost palpable. Valentina could feel the streams of Essence condensing around her as if the Ambient Essence itself was holding its breath.
"The first round consists of a theoretical test on advanced Essence Resonance," Emberfell continued. "But quill and parchment will not be enough for you to answer the questions: You will need to illustrate your theoretical approach in a Weaving pattern. You have four hours, with a short break after two hours. Please note: This is more than just a test of your knowledge. We expect creative solutions and innovative thinking."
Valentina suppressed a triumphant smile. It was exactly what she had found out through her Essence Listening.
"See?" whispered Vyxara in her head. "Our little adventure has paid off."
As the exam sheets were handed out, shimmering Essence constructs appeared in the air, and a flurry of rustling and murmuring began around Valentina. She, however, remained calm, her eyes scanning the questions with cool efficiency.
The first task was a complex theoretical analysis of the interaction between Leb and Viur Essence in healing effects. Valentina smiled inwardly. She had recently studied this topic in one of her forbidden books.
She began to write with nimble fingers, her quill dancing across the paper. The words flowed out of her as if she had memorized every sentence.
Suddenly, she felt a subtle change in the Essence currents around her. It was barely perceptible, but since she was prepared for it, she recognized it immediately: the hidden practical component.
"Be careful," warned Vyxara. "They''re manipulating the Essence in the room. Watch how the others react to it."
Valentina nodded imperceptibly and closed her eyes for a moment. She let her consciousness immerse itself in the Essence currents, subtly activating her Essence Listening.
Around her, she heard quiet cursing and frustrated sighs. Many of her companions seemed confused by the changing Essence patterns.
"What the...?" she heard someone mutter to her left. "Why is the Essence behaving so strangely?"
To her right, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a student with trembling hands trying to stabilize an Essence pattern that stubbornly eluded her control.
Valentina suppressed a grin and skillfully adapted her own Weaving to the changing conditions. It was as if she was performing a complicated dance in which the music was constantly changing.
The time flew by. Valentina was so engrossed in her work that she hardly noticed the hours passing. She was just about to answer the next question – a particularly tricky task involving the reversal of Schate-Essence flows – when she noticed a movement at the next table.
It was Faustus. His face was flushed with exertion, beads of sweat standing out on his forehead. He was visibly struggling with the task, his usually confident expression contorted into a grimace of frustration.
For a moment, Valentina felt a pang of pity. Then she remembered all the times he had humiliated and mocked her. The pity turned into grim satisfaction.
"Concentrate," Vyxara admonished her gently. "You''re so close. Don''t get distracted now."
Valentina took a deep breath and concentrated again on the Essence patterns floating in front of her. They were supposed to create a complex Schate pattern that absorbed certain colors of light. With nimble fingers, she began to manipulate the Essence, her movements precise and confident. She felt the energy flow through her body, warm and tingling as she wove complex patterns in the air.
"Very good," Vyxara murmured approvingly. "But watch out, there''s a fluctuation coming in the Schate-Essence."
As soon as the demon had spoken the words, Valentina noticed a subtle change in the Essence currents. The Schate-Essence suddenly became more unruly, harder to control. She heard some of her companions groan in frustration.
"Damn!" a student two tables away cursed quietly. "What is this now?"
Valentina suppressed a smile. She had been waiting for something like this. With an elegant movement of her hand, she adjusted her Weaving technique, even using the fluctuation to her advantage by redirecting the excess energy into a pattern that struggled to stabilize, supporting its integrity that way.
The result was impressive. Her Weaving pattern billowed like a dark cloud in a late summer thunderstorm, perfectly balanced and powerful. She could feel the appreciative glances of some of the examiners walking through the rows.
"Brilliant," praised Vyxara. "You''re doing it like a master."
Valentina allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. She felt in her element, as if she could finally show what she was really capable of.
The next task was a theoretical question about the nature of Z?t-Essence and its role in the manipulation of temporal processes. Valentina hesitated briefly. This topic had hardly been researched even at the university.
"Remember the chapter on Temporal Resonance in Magister Delmondo''s book," Vyxara whispered. "That could be useful here."
Valentina nodded slightly. She remembered the fascinating theories she had read in the dusty tome. With renewed confidence, she began to write, her quill flying over the paper.
As she worked, she kept her Essence Listening subtly active. She heard the whispers and murmurs of the other students, sensed their frustration and confusion.
"I just don''t understand," she heard Elara moan softly to her left. "How are you supposed to perceive Z?t-Essence at all?"
Valentina suppressed the impulse to help her. This was a competition, she reminded herself. She couldn''t afford to support others now.
Valentina turned to the next task. This time, it was about interacting patterns of Z?t and Schate-Essence.
It was here that Valentina felt her natural talent come into play. Schate-Essence had turned out to be a real strength of hers. She began to shape the dark patterns with smooth, almost dance-like movements.
The shadows condensed around her, dancing and swirling in convoluted patterns. It was as if she was directing the darkness itself, making it dance with the Z?t-Essence that was so difficult to perceive. She was so absorbed in her work that she barely noticed the admiring glances of some of the other students.
"Careful," Vyxara suddenly warned. "They''re increasing the Lieht-Essence in the room. That could destabilize your pattern."
Valentina felt the change immediately. The light in the room became more intense, threatening to disperse the fine Schate patterns. She saw some students trying to save their constructs in a panic as they noticed what happened.
With a quick flick of her wrist, Valentina increased the density of her Schate Essence, even using the additional Lieht to create contrasting patterns. The result was breathtaking – a complex play of Lieht and Schate, the Z?t-Essence oscillating between them in an enormously difficult three-way resonance. Her Weaving Pattern floated in the air like a living work of art.
"By all the flames of the Martyr," she heard someone whisper reverently. "How does she do that?"
Valentina felt her self-confidence grow. She was good, really good. Perhaps for the first time since she had come to Bridgewater, she felt truly in her place.
"You exceed all expectations," said Vyxara appreciatively. "Even I''m impressed."
The bell struck for the break. The tension of the last few hours slowly fell away from her and she felt her hands trembling slightly – a side effect of the intense Essence manipulation.
"You should drink something," Vyxara advised. "And maybe get some fresh air. The next part probably won''t be any easier."
Valentina nodded imperceptibly and made her way to the exit. The main hall was buzzing with excited conversations. Groups of students were standing together everywhere, heatedly discussing the exam questions and comparing their answers.
She was just about to walk past a particularly lively group when she heard an all too familiar voice.
"Spit it out peasant girl," Faustus Boarfend snarled. He broke away from the group and stood in front of Valentina, his face contorted into a condescending expression. "How exactly are you cheating?"