《A Blossom of Flames》


 Chapter 1 - The Burning Tower

    Would she ever get enough of it? Even though she knew she was late again, Valentina stood in awe and admired the view. Although she had been at Bridgewater University for several months now, she still hadn''t lost that sense of wonder. The autumn sun bathed the mighty towers of the university''s fortifications in a warm golden light. The massive stone walls, their architecture interwoven with shimmering lines of essence, rose majestically into the sky before her. At the center of the sprawling campus stood the famous Burning Tower, one of the oldest and largest Flametowers in all of Sommerland.


    To the eye of an ordinary observer, the Burning Tower was simply a building worth marveling at, a masterpiece of architecture to be sure, but still a building like any other. To the few with the gift of seeing Essence, however, the tower was a breathtaking spectacle that left everyone who saw it for the first time speechless. Barely visible patterns of pure energy glittered on the surface of the building, an intricate weave of Leb, Viur, Wazzer and the other types of Essence that formed the heart of all weaving.


    The high-quality paved paths between the university buildings were buzzing with activity. The halberds of the university guards glinted in the evening light and a colorful mix of students from different backgrounds and backgrounds hurried about, on their way to the last lectures of the day. The scholarly art of Essence Weaving itself knew no classes. Either you had the ability to perceive Essence and thus weave it, or you did not. Few had it. The class differences between the students were sometimes subtle, but unmistakable if you knew what to look out for: here a young nobleman in fine silk, there the son of a farmer in solid yet clean wool.


    Some of the more experienced students, from the second and third years, naturally used minor Essence Weaving techniques as they made their way to their lectures. A young man with aristocratic features warmed himself with a small breeze of Viur Essence woven around him, while another student with flaming red hair brought the wilted flowers in her buttonhole back into bloom for a short time by skillfully manipulating the Leb Essence.


    As if snapped out of a trance, Valentina suddenly remembered that she herself was a student at Bridgewater University and had to make her way to her lecture, scolding herself inwardly for staring at the sights like a bumpkin again. Professor Horne would not be pleased if she barged into his lecture late. She wove her way through the bustling crowd into the interior of the university and shivered as her threadbare but carefully maintained red dress, a hand-me-down from her older sister, fluttered around her legs as she hurried up the steps of the main building.


    As she entered the cool halls of the main building, she made an effort to walk as slowly as possible. Not only would it be unseemly to run in the university, but she had no desire to attract the disgruntled attention of the janitors. As she walked, she tried to tame her long brown hair, which had come loose from her hastily braided plait.


    Students stood in small groups in the hall, excitedly discussing their past lectures, hastily comparing notes or copying assignments from each other. Here and there, Valentina caught snatches of conversation as she laboriously pushed her way through the crowd.


    "Have you heard yet? Professor Veilford is said to have made an important breakthrough in dimensional angular planar geometry," a student whispered excitedly to her friend.


    "Really? If that''s true, it could completely change the way we weave Viur Essence," the other student replied, her eyes wide.


    Valentina sighed. Unfortunately for her, such advanced concepts were still far beyond her capabilities at the moment. However, she pushed the thought aside and focused on the here and now. She had just made it to Professor Horne''s lecture on time and she had to give it her full attention now if she wanted to keep up.


    With one last deep breath to calm her nerves, Valentina entered Professor Horne''s musty lecture hall.


    The lecture hall was already well filled, but the omnipresent murmur of the students quickly died down as the professor stepped leisurely up to the lectern. Professor Wymond Horne was a true relic of Bridgewater University. Although he was respected for his abilities and past successes and findings, he was also increasingly the subject of ridicule, especially in recent years, because he didn''t seem to realize that his best days were over. He was well past the age at which university professors usually retired. His face was now marked with deep furrows and his formerly energetic, hands-on manner had given way to a nervous tremor. His long and once quite attractive gray hair peeked out thin and disheveled from under his academic cap, which he was one of the few professors to wear almost permanently, perhaps in the hope that it would give him more authority. He was not exactly one of the most popular professors, which also had to do with his notorious strictness.


    The smile with which he now addressed the students was unpleasant, a little too wide, a little too eager, his teeth yellow


    "Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen," he greeted the students, his voice cool and precise. "Today we are going to deal with a topic that is as fascinating as it is controversial, namely the question of the origin of Essence."


    The lecture hall erupted in an excited whisper. Valentina slid frantically back and forth on her hard wooden seat as she hastily prepared some pieces of parchment for her notes, which she had already used several times and painstakingly scraped off again.


    Professor Horne raised his hand reassuringly to calm the startled students. "Before we delve into the theory, let''s review a few basics so we''re all on the same page. As we know, there are eight different basic types of Essence: Leb, Viur, Wazzer, Ard, Luvt, Lieht, Schate and Z?t. Each with their own unique properties and applications."


    He let his critical gaze wander over the students and then asked: "Who can tell me the main uses of Leb-Essence?"


    Several students raised their hands. Valentina hesitated, however. She knew the answer, of course, but it seemed so simple that she feared a trick question and was afraid of embarrassing herself.


    "Ah yes, Lady Innogen," Professor Horne nodded amiably to an elegant young woman in the front row. "Please, can you give us a hand?"


    Innogen Ashbourne, daughter of the Marquess of Timberpine, rose gracefully as always, her carefully coiffed golden locks shimmering in the light of the Essence lamps. "Leb Essence interacts with life and growth, Professor, and is therefore often used in medicine and agriculture."


    "Quite excellent, Lady Innogen," the professor praised him eagerly. "Well, that''s quite simple, of course. So why don''t we delve a little deeper into the matter?" Everyone knew that. Valentina couldn''t help but think that it looked to her as if the Professor had asked Innogen this simple question for the sole purpose of praising her afterwards - her or some other student from one of the influential noble families. Valentina clicked her tongue softly.The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    With a fluid movement of his hand, Professor Horne wove a small sphere of pure light from the Ambient Essence and levitated it above his desk. "This is a simple pattern of Lieht Essence," he explained. "Look at the structure, how it contrasts with the Ambient Essence around it."


    Valentina squinted and strained to find the exact spot where the Ambient Essence merged with the pattern. She could make out a subtle shimmer, but nothing more. She knew that there were specially made glasses - expensive specially made glasses - that could help you see Essence even better. She sighed.


    "The question we have to ask ourselves today is this: Where does this energy come from? What is the true origin of the Essence that surrounds us, that we can see and ordinary people cannot?" Professor Horn extinguished the ball of light and began to walk up and down in front of his audience. "There are many theories. Some claim that Essence is simply a natural constant, a natural occurrence, like the air we breathe that surrounds us. Others, uneducated fools, see it as a kind of gift with religious significance, a gift from the Martyr to humanity. But the Martyr, as scholars know, was himself an Essence Weaver before he became the Martyr."


    His expression became more serious. "And of course, there are those who hold a much darker theory. They claim that Essence is a relic of demonic influence in the world, an echo of the forces that the Martyr tried to push back so many centuries ago." The room erupted again, and Valentina felt a cold shiver run down her spine. The thought that the very power she was aiming to learn and master, which was why she was at Bridgewater University, could be demonic in origin was unsettling.


    "That is, of course, a very controversial theory," Professor Horne continued. "But as scholars, it is our duty to consider all possibilities thoroughly, however unpleasant it may seem to simpler minds."


    "Excuse me, Professor," came a smug voice from the middle of the lecture hall. Valentina suppressed an annoyed groan. She knew that voice only too well.


    Faustus Boarfend, the eldest son and heir to an aspiring baron, rose ponderously and pretentiously. His richly decorated doublet stretched tightly over his ample belly as he straightened up. "I think we should take this theory very seriously. The chaotic nature of some of the Essence''s manifestations could very well suggest a demonic origin."


    Professor Horne nodded thoughtfully. "An interesting observation Master Boarfend. Can you elaborate on your thoughts?"


    Faustus grinned with a smile, visibly pleased by the attention he was receiving. "Just think of the non-linear dispersion of Viur Essence in a closed system. The fractal patterns that emerge are very similar to the theoretical models of demonic resonance signatures in corrupted essence as described in the writings of Magister Darkmoor."


    Valentina saw some of her fellow students nod in admiration. Faustus'' words certainly sounded very impressive, but she suspected that pompous terminology was more important to him than real understanding.


    "A provocative thesis, Boarfend," said Professor Horne. "But let''s not jump to conclusions. Would anyone like to present a counter-argument?"


    To Valentina''s surprise, Innogen spoke up again. "With all due respect, Professor, but I don''t think we should disregard the Martyr''s history. If Essence were truly demonic in origin, why would the Martyr have left us the ability to use it?"


    "An excellent point, Lagy Innogen," Professor Horne said with aplomb. "The legend of the Martyr is indeed fundamental to our understanding of Essence and its role in the constitution of our world. Who can remind us of the basics of the story?"


    Valentina felt a nervous flutter in her stomach. She knew the story well, of course - every child in Sommerland learned the story and Valentina''s parents were pious people. But the idea of telling the story in front of everyone made her palms all sweaty.


    To their relief, another student came forward. Edgar of Ashford, a slender fellow with ink-stained fingers, began to speak in a quiet but calm voice: More than 1400 years ago, the martyr discovered that the souls of all men were drawn into a realm of eternal torment after death. He realized that the demons feasted on the suffering of souls and became more powerful."


    Edgar took a deep breath and continued: "Filled with unimaginable courage and great sacrifice, the Martyr made a pact with the most powerful of all demons, one of the 11 tyrants of hell. The Martyr offered to take upon himself the suffering of all the souls that had ever lived in exchange for their release. In return, the demon would receive the Martyr''s body."


    Professor Horne nodded in agreement. "Go ahead, Edgar."


    "The demon agreed, drunk on the proposed deal and the prospect of overcoming the demons'' inherent barrier that prevents them from directly influencing our world and bringing darkness and ruin to the world with the Martyr as his vessel. But the Martyr outwitted him. Just as the pact was made, the Martyr''s tower burst into flames. The Martyr''s body was destroyed, but his soul used the combined power of the suffering of the souls of all those who had died up to that point to build a sanctuary in the heart of hell.


    Edgar lowered his voice in awe as he came to the end of the story. "Since that moment, the Martyr has fought tirelessly for the soul of everyone who has died. He offers the mercy of extinction instead of eternal torment. The demons, however, deprived of their food source, are only weakened, not defeated. They wait patiently to regain their lost power."


    Awed silence gripped the room after Edgar had finished his story. Even the insufferable Faustus seemed to have forgotten his arrogance, if only for a moment.


    Professor Horne finally broke the silence and nodded to Edgar. "Thank you Edgar. A concise retelling." Faustus snorted. "Concise? He babbled on forever," he whispered audibly to everyone else and rolled his eyes.


    The professor turned to the students again. "The question we need to answer now is: If Essence were truly demonic in origin, how does that fit with Martyr''s story? Is it possible that he purified this power and gave it to us as a tool?"


    Valentina felt her head spinning. The idea that this omnipresent power that surrounded her and that she craved so much could have arisen from such a dark source was anything but pleasant. At the same time, she found the idea that the Martyr might have turned something so dangerous into an instrument of good intriguing.


    "Valentina," Professor Horne''s voice gruffly snapped her out of her thoughts. "You''ve been very quiet so far. Do you have anything to say on the subject?"


    Valentina felt the blood rush to her cheeks. All eyes turned to her. She swallowed hard and tried to keep her voice clear and firm. "I... I think we should be careful not to jump to conclusions. The nature of the Essence is very complex and we may not even fully understand it yet. It''s even possible that we don''t have the basics to even ask the right questions."


    She took a deep breath and continued, encouraged by Professor Horne''s interested nod. "If Essence were truly demonic in origin, wouldn''t that mean that everything we do and try to do here would be tainted by sin?"


    Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Faustus roll his eyes, but Professor Horn nodded in agreement. "A very thoughtful approach, Valentina. It really is very important that they thoroughly consider the ethical implications of all our theories. Fortunately, for all we know, this theory is nothing more than utter hokum, and knows how to convince no one but borderline-heretic contrarians. The scholarly art of Essence Weaving is the responsible path - indeed the hard, arduous and above all expensive path - to great power. A power that weaker and more foolish spirits can achieve much more quickly and easily in pact with demons, but which is also much more ruinous for their salvation."


    Relieved that her questioning was over and thoughtful about Professor Horne''s comment, Valentina slumped back in her seat. She had managed to give a reasonably good answer without making a complete fool of herself.


    "Now," Professor Horne continued, "let''s look at the various theories about the origin of Essence in detail. Let''s start with the theory of Natural Emanation..."


    The lecture continued and soon Valentina''s head was buzzing with complex diagrams and difficult theoretical concepts. Her quill raced across the scraps of parchment and she tried as hard as she could to write down everything important. Around her, her wealthier fellow students seemed to be soaking up the information effortlessly, with their expensive Essence-induced quills and thick rolls of parchment that Valentina would probably never be able to afford.

 Chapter 2 - Lines Unspoken

    Valentina was in the middle of taking notes when a small piece of parchment, carried by Luvt Essence, fell in front of her. She was just about to unfold the piece of parchment when Professor Horne''s shadow appeared in front of her and took the piece of parchment from her hand. "Looks like you haven''t been devoting your creativity exclusively to the study of Essence," Professor Horne said mockingly as he read the piece of parchment. He cleared his throat theatrically, "Valentina, you seem to have a secret admirer."


    Valentina could feel the blood rushing to her face. Excited whispering broke out around her. She saw Innogen give her a sympathetic look and Faustus grin maliciously. Professor Horne began to read with feigned seriousness and great pathos:


    "Her hair, soft as the quiet night,


    Falls gently, with a chestnut light.


    Eyes like embers, warm and deep,


    Hold thoughts too rich for words to keep."


    Valentina wished she could sink into the floor. She could feel the eyes of the whole room on her, a mixture of curiosity, amusement and - at least in some cases - envy on the faces of the spectators.


    "Her dress, though humble, neat and worn,


    Is like a rose without a thorn."


    Faustus Boarfend snorted in disbelief. "Humble? More like hand-me-down frome two sisters ago. Real ''rose,'' that."


    "She walks with care, and though she''s small,


    Her steps hold grace that moves us all."


    "Moves us all? That probably means moves us out of the way when she falls over those clunky boots she always wears."


    Professor Horne continued, his voice now full of irony and shaking with suppressed laughter:


    "She may not wear the finest gown,


    But in my heart, she wears a crown.


    A quiet fire, steady, bright,


    Her strength glows softly, out of sight."


    After Professor Horne had finished reading, there was absolute silence in the room for a few seconds. Then a storm of reactions broke out.


    Faustus Boarfend leaned back in his chair, chuckling, and told the clique around him loud enough for everyone to hear: "Only fire I feel is the one in my loins."


    "How sweet!" exclaimed a student in the front row. Her voice dripped with a mixture of feigned joy and envy.


    Laughter broke out and Valentina felt her cheeks burn hotter and hotter. She stared at her worn shoes under the table, unable to look anyone in the eye.


    Professor Horne raised his hands reassuringly. "Enough now, enough now. Let''s not forget that poetry is a noble art form, even if its execution... um... may sometimes leave something to be desired."


    He folded the piece of parchment up again and placed it on the front of his desk. "Valentina, it''s up to you whether you want to keep this lyrical masterpiece. And now you are all dismissed."


    With these words, Professor Horne left the room with a slight smile on his lips. The students rose loudly from their seats, whispering and laughing excitedly.


    Valentina sat frozen in her seat like a pillar of salt, unable to move. When she felt a hand on her shoulder, she looked up. Innogen was standing there with her, giving her a pitying look.


    "Come on, Val," she said sympathetically. "Let''s get out of here."


    Grateful for their support, Valentina stood up, her knees trembling slightly. She tidied up her notes and, after a moment''s hesitation, hastily reached for the piece of parchment with the poem on it.


    As they left the lecture hall, they heard Faustus'' piercing voice outside as he shouted: "Her dress, though humble, neat and worn, is like a rose without a thorn! Haha, more like a hoe so full of woe!" Laughter followed them as they made their way down the corridor. Valentina bit her lip and tried to hold back the tears that welled up in her eyes.


    "You''ll just have to ignore him, as hard as it is for you," Innogen murmured to her. "He''s just jealous because no one would ever think of writing him a poem."


    Innogen led Valentina to a quiet corner of the castle courtyard, away from prying and mocking eyes. The smell of wet leaves lingered in the air and the bell of the Burning Tower chimed the hour.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.


    "Do you want to talk about it?" Innogen asked gently as they sat down on a stone bench.


    Valentina shook her head at first, which then turned into a hesitant nod. "It''s just... it''s so incredibly embarrassing! And Professor Horne, of all people, had to read it out in front of everyone."


    Innogen gave her a sympathetic smile. "I know. But you know what? I think it was actually a pretty sweet poem. Someone went to the trouble of writing those lines just for you."


    "But it''s so... so..." Valentina was at a loss for words.


    "Awkward?" suggested Innogen. "Yes, that''s what it is. But honest, too. And hey, not many people ever get a poem written at all, no matter how awkward."


    Valentina sighed and finally relaxed a little, now that she had escaped the intrusive looks. "You''re kind of right. It''s just... I wish it hadn''t been read out in front of everyone in the lecture, of all places.


    "I can well understand that." Innogen put an arm around Valentina''s shoulder and squeezed her with affection and compassion. "But you know what? In a few days, no one will remember this. In a few days they''ll be talking about the next rumor and the next scandal, you know how people are."


    Valentina nodded hesitantly. "I hope you''re right."


    "Of course I''m right," Innogen winked at her. "Now tell me - do you have any idea who might have written it?"


    Valentina blushed again and rolled her eyes. "I... I shouldn''t speculate."


    Just at that moment, they saw Crispin hurrying across the castle courtyard with an armful of books. When he saw Valentina, he nearly fell over his own feet and almost dropped the whole pile of books. His face turned crimson and he mumbled a hasty apology before hurrying off again.


    Innogen looked at Valentina with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I have a hunch..."


    Valentina looked after Crispin with an annoyed expression. The shy, friendly Crispin. He was a lovely boy. But by Martyr and all the saints, why had he put her in this situation?


    "Come on," Innogen finally said and stood up. "Let''s go to dinner, I promise you, everything will look half as bad tomorrow."


    "You go ahead, I''ll follow," Valentina replied. She longed for a little solitude. The curious looks and whispering of the other students was just too much for her at the moment. Valentina gave Innogen an apologetic look and made her way to the university gardens.


    Valentina walked through the evening garden, took a deep breath, shivered a little and felt the tension of the unpleasant situation slowly recede. She strolled along a long, winding garden path past artfully arranged hedges, small spheres woven from Lieht Essence glimmering here and there, bathing the garden in a soft light.


    In a secluded corner, Valentina found a stone bench half hidden behind a rose bush. She sat down and pulled the folded poem out of her bag. In the twilight of the evening, she could barely decipher the letters, but every verse of the poem was burned into her memory.


    "Her hair, soft as the quiet night," she murmured pensively, brushing a particularly unruly strand out of her face. Was her hair really that soft? She had never perceived her hair as anything special.


    A slight rustling startled her. To her surprise, a black cat leapt nimbly out of the bush and began to scrutinize her with shrewd eyes. The cat sat motionless on a stone, only the tip of its tail twitching a little.


    "And what are you doing here, dear cat?" Valentina whispered kindly to her. "Are you also looking for a little peace and quiet?"


    The cat blinked lazily, but otherwise remained motionless. Somehow, Valentina found her attentive gaze reassuring.


    She turned her attention back to the garden. As her eyes adjusted to the twilight, she could see the fine Essence patterns shimmering around the plants. Around the particularly beautiful rose bush was an intricate weave of Leb Essence, pulsating like a living heart.


    Valentina hesitantly reached out and could feel the energy emanating from the pattern, it was warm and inviting. Without thinking, she began to trace the pattern in the air with her hands, just as she had learned in her lectures.


    To her great surprise, the essence responded immediately to her touch. New life was breathed into the rosebuds, some of which had already reached the end of their life cycle, and their leaves began to bloom again in the cold autumn air. Their sweet scent spread and, for a moment, Valentina felt like she was surrounded by pure Leb Essence.


    "Impressive," a croaky voice sounded behind her. "Not many first-year students have such a knack for Leb Essence, it''s not easy, you know."


    Startled, Valentina spun on her heel. An old man in the green uniform of the university gardeners was standing a few steps away from her. His calloused hands rested on an old rake and his eyes sparkled kindly under his bushy white eyebrows.


    "Sorry," Valentina stammered. "I didn''t mean to make a mess of your garden."


    The old gardener laughed softly. "Not at all, my child, don''t worry. You haven''t done anything wrong. Quite the opposite, in fact. Thanks to your touch, these roses will bloom beautifully, even well into the winter."


    Groaning, he bent down to the roses, which were now in full bloom, and took a closer look at them. With a swift movement that Valentina would not have believed his old hands capable of, he ran his hands over the flowers. Leb Essence flowed between his fingers, interweaving with the existing patterns and reinforcing them.


    "You see?" he explained. "Essence Weaving is much more than simple theory and formulas. It''s an art form, a dance with the energy itself. You have to have a knack for it, it''s not enough to just hang over books."


    Valentina watched in fascination as the Essence pattern changed under his experienced hands. "Can you show me how to do that?" she asked eagerly.


    The old gardener laughed amiably. "Gladly, my child. But not tonight. It''s getting late and even the plants need their rest. Especially a gnarled old tree like me." He winked at her. "Another time!"


    With a final friendly nod, he turned and limped away through the hedges, as quietly as he had come. The cat had also made off in the meantime.


    Valentina remained seated for a moment longer, still preoccupied by the events of the day. The embarrassing poem, Faustus'' relentless mockery, the unexpected kindness of the old gardener - everything was whirling around in her head in disorder. She knew she had to clear her head. Full of shame, she thought of her parents, her family, who had literally given everything to make it possible for her to attend Bridgewater University at all. What would her father think of her if he could see her now, sitting there, her undergarments in a bunch over a silly love poem and a fat mocking aristocrat''s son, instead of concentrating diligently on her studies? While the family had to work their butts off to pay off the debts they had incurred so that Valentina could become an Essence Weaver. She could imagine all too well what he would say to her. She stretched and rubbed her eyes. "Pull yourself together and focus on your studies Valentina!" she scolded herself instead of her father.


    As it began to get seriously dark, she finally got up and walked back to the university with renewed determination. As she walked through the cold evening air, admiring the last Essence vibrations of the garden, an idea slowly grew in her mind. Perhaps, she thought, it was time to find ways to supplement her limited resources a little. What she had was barely enough to live on and she was trying as hard as she could, but her wealthier fellow students, who could afford more books, more parchment, more special tutorials and, above all, more Distilled Essence than she could, were slowly but surely passing her by. Perhaps she would find what she was looking for in the library today. Not that she had managed that so far. Although the library had almost become her second home, so often did she spend time there to fill in the gaps in her knowledge.

 Chapter 3 - The Weavers Resolve

    A short time later, she arrived in the library, surrounded by the smell of old leather, parchment and dust, which settled over her like a familiar blanket. The dimmed light from the Essence lamps bathed the high bookshelves in a cozy glow.


    Valentina walked straight to the Essence Theory section, running her fingers over the spines of books as she searched for texts that might help her with her studies. "Basics of Essence Weaving", "The Story of the Martyr and Its Significance to Weaving" - a title wandered into the pile on her arm.


    When she turned a corner a little too energetically, she almost bumped into someone. "Oh, sorry!" she mumbled and looked up. Crispin was standing in front of her, his arms full of books just like her, blushing slightly.


    "V-Valentina!" he stuttered. "I... I didn''t even hear you come in."


    Valentina smiled shyly. After the events of today''s Essence Theory lecture, she felt a little embarrassed in his presence. Had it really been him who had written the poem? But who else could it have been?


    "Late, huh?" she said to bridge the awkward silence.


    Crispin nodded eagerly. "Yes, I thought I''d take advantage of everyone being at dinner and use the quiet for a bit of extra study. I found Professor Horne''s lecture to be quite demanding."


    "You can say that again," sighed Valentina. "I often have the feeling that I only understand half of what he says."


    Crispin''s eyes lit up when she said that. "Oh, if you''d like, maybe I could help you? I''m no expert either, but sometimes it helps to go through the material together."


    Valentina hesitated briefly, but then nodded gratefully. "That would be really nice of you, Crispin."


    They found a quiet table in a secluded corner of the library and spread out their books and notes. As they began to discuss the complex theories they covered in Essence Theory, Valentina watched Crispin out of the corner of her eye. His hands trembled slightly with excitement as he turned the pages and he kept giving her shy glances.


    "Look here," Crispin just explained, "the theory is that Leb Essence tends to flow in a spiral pattern, that''s the most favorable shape you can get it into. Once you understand that, it becomes much easier to weave Leb Essence."


    Valentina nodded thoughtfully. "That reminds me... I think I just saw something like that out in the garden..."


    She was just about to tell Crispin about her encounter with the old gardener when a loud noise interrupted their conversation. At a nearby table, a student had activated a complicated Essence-infused study device that was now quietly vibrating and projecting shimmering Essence flow diagrams into the air.


    She was ashamed of it, but Valentina felt a painful twinge of envy. Such tools were completely out of her reach. She turned back to Crispin, determined not to be discouraged.


    "Thank you for going through all that with me," she said with sincere gratitude. "It really helped me gain a bit more perspective."


    Crispin blushed to the tips of his hair. "I loved doing that," he murmured. "You''re... I mean, you''re fun to study with."


    An awkward silence spread between the two of them. Valentina played nervously with a strand of hair, unsure of what she should say or do now. She wanted to ask Crispin about the poem, but she didn''t want to risk their fragile friendship.


    At that moment, a loud bell rang, alerting the students that the library would be closing shortly.


    "Oh Martyr, we have to go!" Valentina called out and hurriedly began to gather her books and notes.


    Crispin nodded and was visibly relieved that the unpleasant situation had been interrupted. "We''d better hurry or we''ll be locked up here."This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.


    After packing up their stuff, they rushed to the door. There was a basket at the exit where students could dispose of used pieces of parchment. As always, Valentina reached in with nimble fingers and put the scraps of parchment in her bag. She would scrape them clean and reuse them later. As she took one last look back, she remembered that she hadn''t had a chance to look for solutions to her resource problem after meeting Crispin. She promised herself to return at the next opportunity and make up for it.


    "See you tomorrow?" Crispin asked hopefully as they said goodbye to each other.


    Valentina nodded with a smile. "Yes, with pleasure. Maybe we can study a bit for Essence Theory after the lectures?"


    Crispin beamed at her. "That would be really wonderful! I... I''m looking forward to it."


    With a last shy smile, he disappeared around the corner. Valentina looked after him with a satisfied and relieved feeling. Perhaps, she thought, she wasn''t as alone here in Bridgewater as she often felt. She just hoped Crispin''s infatuation wouldn''t make everything more complicated than it needed to be.


    ~


    After a quick dinner in the university dining room, Valentina dragged herself wearily to her small attic room in the student residence. The steep and worn wooden stairs creaked loudly under her aching feet. It was now a familiar sound that accompanied her on her way home every evening.


    As she walked up, her eyes wandered over the windows of the more luxurious accommodation on the second floor. Innogen sat at a sleek desk of polished dark oak, surrounded by a hodgepodge of expensive Essence-infused Weaving aids that glittered slightly in the lamplight. For a moment, just a moment, Valentina felt a pang of envy, which she immediately tried to suppress. Innogen was her friend. Though she was the daughter of the Marquess of Timperpine, a magnate of the realm, she had never made Valentina feel in the slightest that she was anything more than the fourth child of a simple yeoman. She would not dishonor their friendship with envy.


    At last she reached her little room under the roof. It was small, with sloping walls and a tiny window, but it was her own little sanctuary. Valentine lit the simple little oil lamp on her rickety bedside table and flopped heavily onto her narrow bed. The mattress was very thin and hard, but after a long day, she felt as if she had been wrapped in the finest down.


    She turned on her side and looked out of her small window. From up here, she had a perfect view of the Burning Tower. Its flame shone like a beacon in the darkness. The pulsating glow of the Essence patterns surrounding the tower seemed to flicker to the rhythm of her beating heart.


    Valentina sighed deeply and rubbed her closed eyes for a moment. The day had been a real rollercoaster of emotions. Taking a deep breath, she sat up again. She wasn''t here in Bridgewater to whine or give up, but to learn, grow and become the best Essence Weaver she could be. She owed it to her family.


    Valentina got up again and opened the window. The cold air hit her in the face. She stretched out her hand and concentrated, trying to feel the Essence around her, just as she had done in the garden with the roses.


    Nothing happened at first. Then, very slowly but steadily, she felt a slight tingling in her fingertips and fine threads of Viur Essence danced, barely visible, around her hand. With her face contorted in concentration, Valentina tried to shape the essence, to weave a pattern for a warm breeze that could warm her chilly room. For a brief, wonderful, almost magical moment, she succeeded - a warm breeze blew invigoratingly through her room.


    Then it was over again, as suddenly as it had begun. The essence withdrew from her grasp and Valentina gasped for air from exhaustion. She had almost forgotten how exhausting it was to try to weave without Distilled Essence.


    Rich moneybags like Faustus Boarfend could afford to waste the sinfully expensive substance on all sorts of things, be it advanced exercises or keeping the room warm. She couldn''t afford it.


    Although she was exhausted, Valentina had to smile. It was a small success, but it was all hers. Proof that she had the potential to become a good Essence Weaver if she worked hard enough. And if she had enough Distilled Essence. She could work as hard as she wanted, but without Distilled Essence, she wouldn''t get anything done. A carpenter without wood doesn''t build cabinets.


    Sighing, she turned away from the window. Her thoughts kept returning to the same point, her lack of resources. She wasn''t concerned with comfort, if she had enough study materials, if she had enough Distilled Essence, she would sleep on the floor. She let her eyes wander around her sparse room, over her meager possessions. Scuffed books, patched clothes, a small wooden effigy of the Burning Tower, a talisman carved for her by her brother, who was Ember in a monastery. They all betrayed her humble origins. But she refused to simply accept that as an obstacle. She would use it as motivation, work hard and even harder, learn even more and go further than anyone would think possible.


    With renewed determination, Valentina sat down at her small desk once again. She pulled out her scraps of parchment and began writing down the day''s events, organizing her thoughts and making plans for the next day. She would think of something she could do. She simply had to think of something.


    With one last look at the Burning Tower and a silent prayer to the Martyr in her head, Valentina turned off her lamp and lay down in bed, her mind still in turmoil. After her hand found its usual way between her thighs, she slowly calmed down and drifted off to sleep.

 Chapter 4 - A Gift of Warmth

    In her small attic room, Valentina woke slowly from a restless sleep in the early morning. She blinked at the faint light streaming through the tiny window and suppressed a shiver. The night¡¯s air had brought with it the chill of approaching winter, and the thin blanket offered little protection against the cold reaching through the cracks in the old walls.


    With a soft sigh, Valentina swung her legs out of bed and put her bare feet on the cold wooden floor. She winced, longing for the warmth of her childhood home in Palewood, where the large fireplace in the kitchen warmed the whole house. Here, in her tiny room under the roof of the dormitory, there was no such luxury.


    Valentina got up and went to the washbasin in the corner. She poured some water from the jug into the bowl and splashed the icy water on her face to wash away the last remnants of sleep. Her gaze fell on the faded mirror above the washbasin, and she looked critically at her reflection. Dark circles under her eyes bore witness to too many nights spent awake over books and notes. Her long brown hair was tousled and unruly.


    Valentina put her hair into a simple plait with practiced movements. She didn''t have the time for elaborate hairstyles like some of her wealthier fellow students. Every minute she didn''t spend studying felt like a waste.


    Valentina took off her nightgown and shivered in the cold morning air. She reached for one of her dresses ¨C a simple red dress that had been carefully sewn and mended many times before. The dress was worn and thin at the elbows, but it was clean and well maintained. Valentina stroked the fabric lovingly. It had been a gift from her older sister Cecily, carefully fitted and with extra reinforcements at the seams to make it last longer.


    While she got dressed, Valentina let her gaze wander around the small room. It was very simply furnished: a narrow bed, a rickety desk, a decrepit chair, and a small cupboard for her few belongings. Next to it, on a small shelf, was a collection of worn books ¨C borrowed copies from the university library and a few that she had been able to afford herself through hard bargaining and a flirting smile at Barnaby''s Necessities, a pawn store in the city.


    The contrast with the rooms of her wealthier classmates could not have been greater. Valentina thought of Innogen''s spacious room on the first floor, with its elegant furniture and soft carpet. Or Faustus Boarfend''s lavish suite, which was said to be decorated with Essence-soaked tapestries and Weaving artifacts.


    Valentina shook her head to dispel the envious thoughts. She wasn''t here to compare herself to the rich and privileged. She already knew she was poor. She was here to learn, to become the best ¨C and to give her family a better future.


    With one last scrutinizing glance in the mirror, Valentina reached for her worn leather bag. She carefully stuffed her notes into it, along with the few writing utensils she had. Every piece of parchment, every drop of ink was precious and had to be carefully guarded.


    As she opened the door to leave her room, her eyes fell on the small wooden amulet hanging on a nail next to the door. It was a gift from her brother, a roughly carved Burning Tower. Valentina touched it briefly and murmured a silent prayer to the Martyr before stepping out.


    The courtyard was already full of life. Students were hurrying in all directions, some still sleepy, others already engrossed in lively conversations about the upcoming lessons. Valentina locked her door carefully ¨C not that she had much to steal, but it was better to be safe than sorry.


    She was just about to descend the steep staircase when a familiar voice made her pause. "Val! Wait for me!"


    Valentina turned and saw Innogen coming elegantly up the stairs. As always, the daughter of the Marquess of Timberpine looked immaculate. Her golden hair was artfully pinned up in an intricate hairstyle, her dress of the finest fabric shimmered slightly in the morning light ¨C no doubt given a touch of Essence to prevent wrinkles.


    "Good morning, Innogen," Valentina greeted with a smile. Despite their different backgrounds, an unexpected friendship had developed between the two girls.


    Innogen reached Valentina and scrutinized her with a worried look. "You look tired, Val. Have you been sitting up half the night over your books again?"


    Valentina shrugged her shoulders. "There''s so much to learn. I can''t afford to waste even a minute."


    Innogen sighed softly. "You have to look after yourself too, you know. Here, I have something for you." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small object wrapped in silk. When she handed it to Valentina, she immediately felt its warmth.


    "A warming stone," Innogen explained. "I''ve noticed how cold your room is. It works on Viur Essence and should stay warm all night."


    Valentina hesitated. The stone must have cost a fortune. "Innogen, I can''t accept this..."


    "Nonsense," Innogen interrupted her gently. "What are friends for if not to help each other? Please, accept it."


    With a grateful nod, Valentina put the stone in her pocket. The warmth that reached her through the fabric was comforting.


    "Come on," said Innogen and hooked up with Valentina. "Let''s go and have breakfast. I''ve heard there''s fresh bread from the bakery in town today."


    Together, the two young women made their way to the dining room, where breakfast was served. Valentina felt her empty stomach tighten at the thought of fresh bread. It was a small luxury, but one that she appreciated.


    As they walked down the stairs, Valentina noticed the curious and sometimes envious glances that followed them. Innogen didn''t seem to notice them or skillfully ignored them. Valentina, on the other hand, was aware of every single one of them. She knew that many wondered how a simple peasant girl and the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the kingdom could be friends.


    At the foot of the stairs, they were greeted by a group of students on their way to class. Valentina recognized Edgar of Ashford, the quiet young man who had so eloquently summarized the story of the Martyr in yesterday''s lecture.


    "Good morning, Lady Innogen, Valentina," he greeted with a slight bow. His fingers were stained with ink, as always, and Valentina noticed the heavy books he was carrying under his arm.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    "Good morning, Edgar," Innogen replied amiably. "Ready for Professor Veilford''s tutorial on advanced planar geometry?"


    Edgar nodded eagerly. "I can hardly wait. I''ve heard he''s going to explain the Vanderlieu spiral to us today."


    Valentina felt a twinge of envy. The Vanderlieu spiral was a complex geometric figure used for advanced Essence manipulation. She had read about it, but the tutorial was only for students who could afford the expensive extra courses, or were sponsored by a benefactor ¨C and even for those, places in Professor Veilford''s famous tutorial were limited.


    When they reached the dining room, they were greeted by the smell of freshly baked bread and the hum of dozens of conversations. Valentina took a deep breath and tried to suppress the mixture of excitement and worry that rose up inside her.


    ~


    After a hasty breakfast, where Valentina savored every bite of the fresh bread, the students made their way to their lectures. The scent of herbs and the light mist of Essence hung in the air as Valentina entered the corridor leading to the Practical Essence Weaving lecture hall.


    Professor Lydia Emberfell, a tall woman with silver hair and piercing green eyes, was already at the lectern. Her hands moved through the air in flowing patterns as she wove complex Essence patterns that floated in the air before her as shimmering lines.


    Valentina hurried to her seat, clutching her worn leather bag tightly. She felt the warming stone Innogen had given her through the fabric and was grateful for the comforting presence, even if she would have preferred to be in Veilford''s tutorial with Innogen right now. As she sat down, she noticed that the chair next to her was empty. Crispin wasn''t there yet.


    "Good morning, class," Professor Emberfell began, her voice clear and authoritative. "Today we will be studying advanced patterns of Leb Essence. Please take out your Essence containers and begin the warm-up exercise I''m showing on the board."


    A soft rustling went through the room as the students took out their utensils. Valentina carefully opened her bag and pulled out a small, worn leather pouch. Inside was her precious supply of Distilled Essence ¨C just enough for today''s exercise, if she used it sparingly.


    Next to her, Faustus Boarfend made a theatrical gesture and pulled out an ornate crystal container filled with shimmering distilled Essence. "Oh, sorry," he said to Valentina with a condescending grin. "Do you mind the gleam? I know some eyes aren''t used to such a sight."


    Valentina bit her lip and ignored him. Instead, she focused on the intricate pattern Professor Emberfell had written on the board. It was a variation on the basic structure for healing spells, but with added loops and twists Valentina had never seen before.


    With trembling hands, she opened her Essence container and began to trace the pattern. The Leb Essence, green and pulsating like a heartbeat, flowed from her fingertips and formed delicate lines in the air. Valentina concentrated with all her might, every movement precise and deliberate.


    Around her, the buzzing and flickering of Essence increased as her classmates began their own exercises. To her right, Elara of Willowbrook, a scholar''s daughter, wove a perfect pattern, her hands sure and practiced. On the other side, Gareth of Millstone, the son of a miller, visibly struggled with the complexity of the exercise.


    Professor Emberfell walked through the rows, commenting here and there or offering assistance. As she approached Valentina''s table, she felt her heart beat faster. She knew her pattern wasn''t perfect ¨C the outer loops were too thin, the inner swirls not quite symmetrical.


    "Valentina," said Professor Emberfell as she stopped next to her. Her eyes scrutinized the floating Essence pattern critically. "Your basic structure is solid, but you''re losing too much energy in the peripheral areas. Try to focus the flow here and here." She pointed to two places in the pattern.


    Valentina nodded eagerly and tried to follow the instructions. She noticed how her supply of distilled Essence was running low and didn''t dare use any more. Every drop was precious.


    "Very good, Master Boarfend," she heard Professor Emberfell say next to her. "Your control over the Essence currents is impressive."


    Faustus beamed with pride. "Thank you, Professor. I''ve been practicing all summer with a private tutor. Perhaps I could demonstrate an advanced technique to the class?"


    Before Professor Emberfell could reply, there was a loud bang, followed by a startled cry. All heads turned to Gareth, whose Essence pattern had collapsed and had now burned a hole in his table with a considerable amount of sparks.


    "Gareth!" Professor Emberfell shouted and hurried to him. "What did I say about the importance of basic stability? You could have put the whole class in danger!"


    Gareth''s face was red with embarrassment. "I''m sorry, Professor. I thought I could enhance the texture by adding more Ambient Essence..."


    "Essence Weaving is not a question of quantity, but of precision," Professor Emberfell explained sternly. She turned to the class. "This is an important lesson for all of you. Overconfidence and carelessness can have disastrous consequences."


    Valentina watched as Gareth tried to get the dispersed Essence back under control. She felt for him ¨C she knew only too well what it was like to try desperately to keep up with the others.


    The hour wore on, and Valentina struggled to maintain her pattern. Her supply of Distilled Essence was almost depleted, and she could feel her concentration waning. Beside her, Faustus experimented with ever more complex variations of the pattern, his crystal vat seemingly inexhaustible.


    When Professor Emberfell finally announced the end of the lesson, Valentina sank into her chair, exhausted. Her pattern was far from the perfection she had hoped for, but at least it had remained stable.


    "Excellent work, class," said Professor Emberfell. "For the next lesson, I expect each of you to provide a written analysis of the energy flows in this pattern. Faustus, I would like to speak with you briefly after class."


    While the other students packed up their things and left the room, Valentina remained seated for a moment. She stared at her almost empty Essence container and wondered desperately how she was going to get through the rest of the month.


    "Well, yokel," Faustus'' voice rang out beside her. "Looks like you''re having trouble keeping up. Maybe you should concentrate on milking cows instead, that''s probably more in your league."


    Valentina clenched her fists under the table. "Leave me alone, Faustus," she hissed.


    He just laughed. "Oh, did I hit a sore spot? Don''t worry, I''m sure Professor Emberfell will give you a good grade out of pity. After all, she has a heart for... charitable causes." With a final sneer, he turned away and walked to the desk where Professor Emberfell was waiting for him.


    Valentina forced herself to take a deep breath. She would not give Faustus the satisfaction of upsetting her. Instead, she packed up her things and left the room, her head held high.


    Outside in the corridor, she came across Crispin rushing towards her. His cheeks were slightly flushed and he looked as if he had run the whole way.


    "Valentina!" he called out of breath. "I''m so sorry, I overslept and missed the first lecture. How was it?"


    She sighed. "Difficult. Professor Emberfell taught us a really complicated Leb Essence pattern."


    Crispin''s eyes widened. "Oh no, I missed that? Can you... can you maybe show me sometime later in the week when you have time?"


    Valentina hesitated. She barely had any Distilled Essence left, but Crispin''s pleading look was hard to ignore. "I don''t know if I have enough Distilled Essence for this," she finally confessed.


    "Oh," said Crispin, visibly disappointed. Then his face brightened. "I have an idea! Why don''t we share my Distilled Essence? I still have enough, and that way we can practice together."


    Valentina was surprised by this offer. Distilled Essence was extremely expensive, and most students guarded their supply jealously. "You would do that?"


    Crispin smiled shyly. "Of course. We''re friends, aren''t we?"


    A warm feeling of gratitude spread through Valentina''s chest. "Thank you, Crispin. That really means a lot to me."


    At that moment, the bell rang, announcing the start of the next lecture. Valentina and Crispin exchanged a startled glance.


    Together they hurried along the corridor, past hurried students and floating Essence balls that served as signposts.

 Chapter 5 - A Letter from Home

    The large bell in the Burning Tower struck midday as Valentina and Crispin streamed out of Professor Greycloak''s lecture on the history of Essence Weaving. The smell of roasting meat and fresh bread wafted through the corridors, luring the hungry students towards the dining room.


    "I''m starving," moaned Crispin as they descended the wide staircase. "I could devour a whole ox. With tail."


    Valentina smiled weakly. Her own stomach growled audibly, but she tried to ignore it. Breakfast seemed like ages ago, and the exhausting Essence weaving in the morning had sapped her energy reserves.


    As they entered the large room, they were greeted by a babble of voices and the clatter of dishes. Long tables and benches stretched across the room, where students from all three years sat, ate and chatted.


    Valentina glanced around the crowd and spotted Innogen waving to them from the other end of the dining room. She made her way through the crowd, Crispin close on her heels.


    "Here, I''ve saved us seats," Innogen said as they approached. She pointed to the empty places next to her.


    Valentina and Crispin gratefully settled down. In front of them on the table were bowls of steaming soup, platters of fresh bread and cheese, and jugs of cool water.


    "How was Professor Greycloak''s lecture?" asked Innogen as she handed Valentina a loaf of bread.


    "Fascinating," Valentina replied, tearing off a piece of the fragrant bread. "He was talking about the origins of Essence Weaving in the time before the Martyrium. It''s amazing how far back the scholarly art goes."


    Crispin nodded eagerly, his mouth full of soup. He swallowed hastily and said, "I found the bit about the various theories on the origins of the Essences particularly interesting. The idea that they might be leftovers of the one original force that formed our world is really intriguing."


    Suddenly the conversations fell silent. A tall man in the traditional blue jerkin of a messenger entered, followed by a janitor whom he had put to work carrying a large sack.


    "Mail!" someone shouted excitedly, and a commotion immediately broke out. Students jumped up from their seats in the hope of receiving news from home.


    Valentina felt her heart beat faster. She had been waiting for a letter from her family for weeks. The latest news from home had been worrying ¨C the harvest seemed to turn out not as good as they had hoped, and the interest payments on the debts her parents had incurred for her studies were weighing heavily on everyone.


    The messenger began calling out names and distributing letters. Innogen received a thick envelope sealed with her family''s coat of arms. Her eyes lit up as she opened it and began to read.


    "Good news?" asked Valentina as she nervously waited for her own name to be called.


    Innogen nodded, a slight smile on her lips. "My little brother Jasper sends news from the royal court. It seems he has already made a good impression."


    Crispin also received a letter, but Valentina could see that he was hesitant to open it. She knew his relationship with his family was complicated, especially since he had decided to become an Essence Weaver instead of following in his father''s footsteps.


    The names continued to be called, but Valentina''s was not mentioned. With every moment that passed, her tension grew. What if something bad had happened? What if her family...


    "Valentina of Palewood!" the messenger finally called out.


    Valentina stood up with trembling hands and walked forward. The messenger handed her a simple envelope sealed with wax. The paper felt rough under her fingers and she immediately recognized her father''s clumsy handwriting.


    "Are you all right?" Crispin asked anxiously as she returned to her seat. Valentina nodded silently, her eyes fixed on the letter.


    "Aren''t you going to open it?" Innogen urged gently.


    Valentina swallowed hard. "I... I think I''ll read it later. In peace."


    Her friends exchanged a worried glance but respected her wishes. The conversation turned to other topics, but Valentina could hardly concentrate on them. The letter in her bag seemed to burn in her mind, reminding her of the responsibility that weighed on her shoulders.


    As the lunch break came to an end and the students rose to go to their afternoon lectures, Valentina remained seated.


    "Aren''t you coming to the lecture on the ethics of Essence weaving?" asked Crispin.


    Valentina shook her head. "I... I think I need a moment to myself. Please tell Professor Ravencroft that I''m not feeling well."


    Innogen put a hand on her shoulder sympathetically. "Of course. If you want to talk, you know where to find us."


    With one last worried look, her friends left her alone. The dining room emptied quickly and soon Valentina was surrounded by silence. She pulled the letter out of her bag and stared at it for a long time. With a deep breath, she finally stood up. She had to find a quiet place to read the letter ¨C a place where she would be undisturbed, no matter what the contents might bring.


    With a heavy heart, Valentina left the dining hall and made her way to the secluded corner of the university gardens that she had discovered yesterday. There, by the roses, under the shade of the old oak tree, she would find the courage to open the letter and face the news from home.


    ~


    Valentina made her way through the university''s extensive gardens. Afternoon lecture had started, and the paths were mostly deserted. Only here and there did she see a lone student sitting on a bench, bent over a book or quietly muttering Essence formulas to themselves.This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    The air was filled with the sweet scent of late fall flowers and the earthy smell of falling leaves. A cool breeze brushed through the trees, making golden and red leaves dance around Valentina''s feet. In the distance, she could hear the muffled ringing of the Burning Tower bells calling for afternoon worship.


    Finally, she reached her destination: an old oak tree on the edge of a small pond. Its mighty branches offered protection from prying eyes, and the gentle babbling of the water created a calming atmosphere. Valentina had discovered this place a few weeks ago and had often come here since then, when she was looking for peace and solitude.


    She sat down on one of the protruding roots and leaned against the rough trunk. With trembling hands, she pulled the letter out of her pocket. The seal was simple ¨C a piece of ordinary wax into which her father had pressed the imprint of his old ring. It was so different from the ornate wax seals on Innogen''s letters or the Essence-enhanced seals that some of the richer students received.


    Valentina took a deep breath and broke the seal. The paper crackled as she unfolded the letter. Her father''s handwriting was clumsy and smudged in places, a sign that he had probably written the letter late at night by candlelight after a long day of hard work in the fields.


    "My dear daughter Valentina," the letter began.


    "I hope this letter reaches you in good health and finds you eager in your studies. Here in Palewood the chill has set in. The days are long and the work is hard, but we think of you often and pray together every evening to the Martyr for your well-being and success.


    Your mother sends word that she is proud of you and hopes that you dress warmly enough. Winter is approaching and we know that firewood is much more expensive in the city than here in the country. She has started knitting you a new scarf, which we want to send you soon.


    Your siblings miss you very much. Adeline keeps asking when you''re coming home and even little Thomas, who is just starting to talk, is trying to say your name. Cecily has got married and is expecting her first child. She knows that your studies probably won''t allow you to be there when it receives the ashes, but hopes that you will get to meet it the next time you can visit.


    Now, my daughter, I must move on to less pleasant things. It is difficult for me to write this, but you have a right to know the truth. The harvest this year was not as good as we had hoped. The summer was too dry and many of our fields only produced half the usual yield. We will get through the winter, but it won''t be easy.


    The debts we took on to finance your studies are weighing heavily on us. The moneylender from the city was here last week and threatened to seize our land if we didn''t continue repayments soon. I tried to explain to him that we''ll have the money as soon as you finish your training and start working as an Essence Weaver, but he wouldn''t hear of it.


    Don''t get me wrong, my daughter. We have no regrets. Your mother and I are so proud of you and what you have achieved. You are our hope, our flame in the darkness. We know you work hard and do everything you can to succeed. But I must ask you to work even harder, to make even more effort. Our family¡¯s future depends on it.


    I know this is a heavy burden for your young shoulders. Believe me, if I could, I would take it off your shoulders. But you are strong, Valentina. You have the fire of the Martyr in you, I''ve always seen that in your eyes. You''ll make it, I''m sure of it.


    Be careful with your money. I know life in the city is expensive, but we can''t send you anything for a while. Every penny we can spare goes to the moneylender. Maybe you can find a way to earn something on the side? I''ve heard that some students work as scribes or tutors.


    Your brother Roric, who is doing well in the monastery, sends word that he is praying for you. He says you should stay away from the temptations of the city and concentrate on your studies. I know you are a good and pious girl and will not disappoint us.


    I have to close now. The candle is almost burnt down and tomorrow is another long day on the farm. Know that we love you and are proud of you. Don''t let the worries I have shared with you discourage you. You are our good hope, Valentina. With the Martyr''s blessing, you will make it.


    With love, your father"


    Valentina stared at the letter for a long time, the words blurring before her eyes. She felt a knot forming in her stomach and her throat tightening. The burden of her family''s expectations, the worries about her financial situation ¨C everything seemed to be crushing her all at once.


    A breeze rustled the leaves of the oak tree and Valentina flinched. She looked up and noticed that the shadows had grown longer. How long had she been sitting here staring at the letter?


    With trembling hands, she folded up the paper and put it back in her pocket. She leaned against the tree trunk and closed her eyes, trying to organize her thoughts.


    The situation at home was worse than she had feared. The idea that her family could lose their little piece of land filled her with fear and guilt. Was it all worth it? Should she perhaps give up, return home and work in the fields to pay off the debt?


    No, she thought resolutely. She couldn''t do that. Her family had bet everything on her. She was their only hope for a better future. She had to find a way to succeed, whatever the cost.


    But how? Her limited resources were already making it difficult to keep up with the other students. Without additional resources, without more Distilled Essence, she would soon fall hopelessly behind.


    Valentina opened her eyes and stared at the pond in front of her. The surface was calm, disturbed only occasionally by a falling leaf. She watched the rings spread across the water and disappear again. Like Essence patterns, she thought. Everything is connected, every action has consequences.


    A sudden thought flashed through her mind. The Greystone Excellence in Essence Weaving competition! She''d heard about it of course, everyone had, but hadn''t seriously considered taking part until now. The competition was known for its challenging tasks and fierce competition ¨C it was really a thing for the wealthier students who had long had a head start in knowledge. But the prize... the prize could perhaps solve all her problems.


    Valentina felt new energy flowing through her. This was it. She would take part in this competition and win. She had to win. It was her only chance to help her family and continue her studies.


    She got up with a faint glimmer of hope. The sun was already leaning towards the horizon and the evening shadows were getting longer. She had to hurry if she wanted to get to the library before dinner.


    On the way back to the main university building, Valentina met Professor Veilford, who had just come out of the greenhouse. His arms were full of strange-looking plants, and a faint scent of Essence surrounded him.


    "Ah, Valentina," he greeted kindly. "Not in a lecture?"


    Valentina blushed slightly. "I... I wasn''t feeling well, Professor. But I feel better now."


    The old man nodded in understanding. "The demands here can sometimes be overwhelming. Don''t forget to take care of yourself too. An exhausted mind cannot weave Essences."


    "Yes, Professor," Valentina replied. Then, driven by a sudden impulse, she asked, "Professor Veilford, do you know anything about the Greystone Competition?"


    The professor''s eyes lit up. "Ah, a fascinating competition! A great opportunity for talented young weavers to prove themselves. Are you considering taking part?"


    Valentina nodded hesitantly. "I''ll think about it. But I''m not sure if I''m... if I''m good enough."


    Professor Veilford smiled warmly. "Valentina, I''ve seen your work in my class. You have a natural talent for Essence Weaving. With hard work and dedication, you may well have a chance. The library has some excellent resources on the subject if you''d like to learn more."


    "Thank you, Professor," Valentina said, a feeling of hope welling up inside her. "I''ll definitely look into it."


    With a final nod, she said goodbye to Professor Veilford and hurried towards the library. Her head was buzzing with ideas and plans. She would find out everything she could about this competition, use every spare minute to practise and prepare.


    When she reached the large doors of the library, Valentina paused for a moment. Her father''s letter lay heavy in her pocket. But for the first time in a long time, she felt not only the burden of responsibility, but also a spark of hope.

 Chapter 6 - Forbidden Pages

    The heavy oak doors of the library closed behind Valentina with a muffled sound that briefly broke the silence of the room. The familiar smell of old leather, parchment and dust enveloped her like a warm blanket. The tall bookshelves stretched seemingly endlessly in all directions, their shadows dancing in the flickering light of the Essence-powered lamps.


    Valentina took a deep breath and felt an inner calm slowly settle over her again. Here among all the knowledge, she felt safe. She had the feeling that the answers to all her problems were surely hidden somewhere in these countless tomes ¨C she just had to find them.


    With purposeful steps, she made her way to the competitions and examinations section. The shelves here were less dusty than in other areas of the library, a sign that these books were frequently consulted. Valentina glanced over the spines of the books, searching for anything related to the Greystone Excellence in Essence Weaving competition.


    "Can I help you?" an unfriendly voice suddenly sounded behind her.


    Valentina flinched and turned around. In front of her stood Matilda Ravencroft, the stern librarian. Her sharp eyes scrutinized Valentina and her thin lips were pressed together in a disapproving line.


    "I... I''m looking for information about the Greystone Competition," Valentina stammered.


    Matilda Ravencroft raised an eyebrow. "The Greystone Competition? An ambitious goal for a student of your... means." She eyed Valentina again, then sighed. "Follow me."


    The librarian led Valentina through a labyrinth of shelves to a small alcove. There were several volumes here, all bearing the Greystone family crest, a grey crescent moon with a face and red eyes.


    "These are the official records of the last fifty years of the competition," Matilda explained. "You''ll find the rules, past tasks and reports on the winners. Treat the books with respect ¨C unlike you, they are irreplaceable."


    With these words, she turned around and disappeared between the shelves, her footsteps surprisingly quiet on the old wooden floor. Valentina grimaced and mimicked the librarian''s snobbish expressions behind her back.


    She then pulled out the first volume in awe. The book was heavy, bound in dark leather with letters decorated in gold. As she opened it, the smell of old parchment and a hint of Essence wafted towards her.


    Hour after hour, Valentina immersed herself in the notes. She read about brilliant young Essence Weavers who had impressed the judges with their innovative techniques. Of complex tasks that tested the limits of what was possible with Essence Weaving. And of the generous prizes that awaited the winners.


    The more she read, the more her determination grew. The competition was tough, no question. But if she won... the prize wouldn''t solve all her problems, but it would at least be enough to save her family from having their land seized and make her studies a little more... possible.


    As she read, Valentina busily took notes. She scribbled ideas for possible projects on a worn piece of parchment, sketched complex Essence patterns and listed techniques she still needed to perfect.


    Time flew by. The golden light of the afternoon sun shining through the high windows gradually gave way to dusk. Around her, other students came and went, their conversations no more than a muffled murmur in Valentina''s focused mind.


    She barely noticed Crispin sit down at the table opposite her, a stack of books on planar geometry in his arms.


    "Val?" he asked quietly. "Are you all right? You''ve been missing all afternoon."


    Valentina looked up, surprised by the interruption. "Oh, Crispin. Yes, everything''s fine. I was just doing some research."


    Crispin''s eyes fell on the open books in front of her. "The Greystone Competition? You''re thinking about entering?"


    Valentina nodded slowly. "Yes, I... I think I''ll try."


    Crispin''s eyes widened. "Wow, that''s... that''s brave. The competition is notorious for how difficult it is. Are you sure you want to do this?"


    Valentina hesitated for a moment. Should she tell Crispin about the letter? About her family''s financial difficulties? About the pressure she was under? She opened her mouth, but then closed it again. No, she decided. That was her burden to bear.


    "I''m sure of it," she said firmly instead. "It won''t be easy, but I have to try."


    Crispin nodded slowly. "Well, if you need any help ¨C practicing or anything ¨C let me know, okay? Who knows, maybe I''ll enter the competition too?"


    Valentina smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Crispin."


    As Crispin turned back to his own studies, Valentina returned to her notes. She knew she still had a long way to go. Her knowledge of advanced Essence Weaving was spotty at best, and she had nowhere near enough practice with complex patterns. How could she, without Distilled Essence?


    With a sigh, she leaned back and rubbed her tired eyes. She needed more ¨C more knowledge, more practice, more Distilled Essence. But how was she going to manage all that in the short time until the competition?If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    Her thoughts were interrupted when a loud thud echoed through the library. Several students sitting at a nearby table jumped up, startled. A heavy tome had fallen from one of the upper shelves and was now lying open on the floor.


    Curious, Valentina stood up and walked over. She bent down to pick up the book when her eyes fell on the open page. Her breath caught.


    There, in squiggly lettering, was the title: "Forbidden Arts of Essence Manipulation: A Compendium".


    Valentina''s heart began to race. She knew that there were areas of Essence Weaving that were considered too dangerous or unethical for the young students to study. But here, right in front of her, was a book that promised to reveal those very secrets. She knew it shouldn''t have been here, in the open part of the library. Someone must have shelved it incorrectly.


    She picked up the book with trembling hands. It was heavy, bound in dark leather that felt cool and somehow... alive to the touch. Small Essence patterns seemed to dance across the cover, barely visible in the dim light of the library.


    Valentina knew she should put the book back on the shelf. It was clearly not intended for students ¨C probably not even for most professors. But something about it drew her in. Maybe, she thought, maybe it contained exactly the knowledge she needed to succeed in the competition.


    She looked around. The other students had returned to their studies and Matilda Ravencroft was nowhere to be seen. Valentina quickly slipped the book under her pile of notes and returned to her desk.


    Her heart hammered in her chest as she sat down again. She knew that what she was doing was wrong. Dangerous, even. But the thought of her family, of the debt, of everything that was at stake... She simply had to take every chance she got.


    With one last guilty glance at Crispin, who was still engrossed in his geometry books, Valentina carefully opened the forbidden book. The pages felt strange under her fingers.


    Her eyes widened as she began to read. There was information about demons, about techniques and theories she had never heard of. Methods to manipulate Essence in ways she could never have imagined. It was fascinating and terrifying at the same time.


    Valentina knew she had to be careful. This knowledge was forbidden for good reason. But maybe, she thought, maybe she could adapt some of these ideas, make them safer, use them for the competition...


    With a determined nod, she began to copy carefully selected passages into her notebook. She would be careful, she swore to herself. She wouldn''t do anything dangerous or unethical. She could stop at any time if it got too unsafe. This was just research, just a way to improve her chances.


    When the library bell announced the approaching closing time, Valentina jumped. She had completely forgotten the time. She hurriedly packed up her things, carefully hiding the forbidden book among her other documents.


    With one last glance over her shoulder, she left the library, the weight of the forbidden knowledge heavy in her bag. With quick steps, she made her way to her room, determined to spend the night studying her newfound knowledge. The darkness of the falling night seemed to envelop her, as if to protect Valentina''s secret from prying eyes.


    ~


    After arriving and dropping off her things, Valentina slipped silently out of her room, the forbidden book clutched tightly to her chest. The corridors of the dormitory were silent, interrupted only occasionally by the muffled snores behind closed doors. She scurried down the stairs, her heart racing with every creaking wooden plank.


    Outside, the cool night air welcomed them. The Burning Tower loomed in the distance, its eternal flame a signpost on the horizon. Valentina hesitated for a moment, a pang of guilt tingling through her. Then she thought of her father''s letter and her determination returned.


    She made her way to the secluded corner of the university gardens. Hidden between dense rose bushes stood an old, dilapidated arbor where the university gardeners stored their tools.


    Once in the arbor, Valentina carefully lit a small oil lamp she had brought. The flickering light cast dancing shadows on the moss-covered walls.


    With trembling hands, she placed the book on the weathered wooden table in front of her. Valentina took a deep breath and opened the book. The smell of old parchment and something sharp, almost metallic, caught her nose. The pages were thin and brittle, the writing on them in an ancient version of Altothal.


    She began to read, her eyes darting over the pages. The book was divided into several sections. The first part contained detailed descriptions of various demons, their characteristics and abilities. Valentina shuddered at the grotesque illustrations, but forced herself to read on.


    The next section dealt with the summoning circle, the famous Bankreizh that the Martyr invented so long ago. Intricate geometric patterns were depicted, each line and symbol labeled with precise instructions. Valentina recognized some of the basic shapes from her lectures in planar geometry, but the complexity of the circles was beyond anything she had ever seen.


    Then came the binding methods. Here it was described how to control and bind a summoned demon. The techniques ranged from simple commands and binding agreements to complex rituals to manipulate the demon.


    In between, Valentina repeatedly came across warnings. Written in red ink, they stood out clearly from the rest of the text. They spoke of the dangers of demon summoning, of failed bindings and the terrible consequences for the summoner.


    Despite the warnings, Valentina felt her interest growing. The power described here was tempting. She thought of her problems, of the competition, of her family''s debts. Couldn''t a bound demon solve all that?


    She shook her head, trying to hear the voice of reason. But then her eyes fell on a passage about binding demons to objects. The idea formed in her mind: what if she were to bind a demon to something small, something she could control? It would be safe, she thought. Only temporarily, just to help her through the competition.


    Valentina leaned back, her mind racing. She began to formulate a plan. She could be careful, take every precaution. It would be controlled, safe. Just a temporary solution until she won the competition and solved her problems. And if everything would go wrong despite all her precautions, she could simply destroy the object the demon was bound too, sending ¨ªt back to its realm.


    With feverish energy, she began to make notes. She listed the materials she needed: A special salt for the summoning circle, she could easily find that, candles made of pure beeswax, she had those, rare herbs for the protection ritual, she knew where to find them, in the forest outside the city. The list went on. It would not be impossible.


    As she jotted down the final details of her plan, Valentina noticed that the sky in the east was already getting brighter. She had spent the whole night here, immersed in the forbidden knowledge of the book.


    She hastily packed up her things and left the arbor. Her heart was filled with a strange excitement. She knew she was taking a dangerous path, but for the first time in a long time she no longer felt helpless.

 Chapter 7 - What Lies Beyond

    Dusk was falling over Bridgewater University as Valentina descended the steps of the main building. The day had been a mixture of lectures, secretly studying the forbidden book, gathering needed materials for the summoning, and growing tension. She needed a moment of calm to organize her thoughts.


    Her feet carried her back to the university gardens almost as if of their own accord. Here and there, students scurried past, engrossed in quiet conversations or books. A black cat was prowling through the bushes. Valentina found herself in front of the rose bed she had discovered here a few days ago. Some of the roses she had woven into full bloom back then were now beginning to fade again.


    She stretched out her hand and concentrated on the Essence surrounding the plants. Unlike her first attempt, she could now perceive the fine currents of Leb Essence more clearly. She could feel the energy flowing through the stems, spreading through the leaves and collecting in the remaining buds.


    With a gentle movement of her fingers, Valentina directed a stream of living Essence to one of the buds. Slowly, almost hesitantly, it began to open. The petals unfurled until a perfect, dark red rose stood before her.


    A faint smile flitted across Valentina''s face. A few months ago, she wouldn''t even have been able to attempt such a manipulation. Now it was much easier for her. And yet...


    Her smile faded. What did this small success mean in view of the challenges that lay ahead of her? The Greystone Competition would demand far more of her than opening a rosebud.


    Valentina sank down on a nearby bench, her gaze fixed on the distance. She thought of her father''s letter, of the debts that weighed on her family. Of the expectations placed on her.


    "What am I supposed to do?" she murmured quietly to herself. Her options seemed so limited. Even if she studied day and night, it would hardly be enough to keep up with the wealthy students who could afford expensive tutoring and high-end Distilled Essence.


    And then there was the forbidden book. The power it promised was tempting. But the risks¡­


    "Heavy thoughts for such a beautiful evening," a rough voice suddenly sounded next to her.


    Valentina winced and turned around. Standing next to the bench was the old gardener she had met on her first visit here. His weather-beaten hands rested on a worn rake and his eyes seemed to sparkle in the twilight.


    "Oh, you startled me," Valentina said breathlessly.


    The old man smiled apologetically. "I''m sorry about that, young lady. I didn''t mean to disturb you. But you looked like you could do with someone to talk to."


    Valentina hesitated. Something about the old gardener radiated wisdom and understanding. Perhaps...


    "I... I''m faced with a difficult decision," she began cautiously.


    The gardener nodded thoughtfully and sat down next to her on the bench. "Ah, the most difficult decisions are often those where we have to choose between what is right and what is easy."


    Valentina blinked in surprise. "How do you know...?"


    He laughed softly. "I''ve seen a lot of students come and go, young lady. I recognize the look of a troubled mind."


    They sat in silence for a while, watching the last rays of sun disappear behind the horizon.


    "You know," the gardener finally began, "Essence is a strange thing. It surrounds everything, gives life and strength. But it can also be dangerous if you''re not careful."


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. Did he know about the book?


    The old man continued: "In my youth, I knew an Essence Weaver who strove for great power. He experimented with techniques that others thought were too dangerous. In the end, he actually achieved what he wanted ¨C but at a terrible price."


    "What... What happened?" Valentina asked with a dry throat.


    The gardener sighed heavily. "He lost himself. The power he had gained consumed everything he had once been. In the end, he was just an empty shell, filled with an Essence that was not his own."


    Valentina shuddered. The story reminded her eerily of the warnings in the forbidden book.


    "But," the old man continued, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone, "perhaps his mistake was not in seeking power, but in choosing the wrong path. True power, you know, doesn''t come from outside. It grows within ourselves. We just need to set it free."


    He leaned over and gently touched one of the roses that Valentina had made bloom. "Do you see this rose? You didn''t force it to bloom. You just helped it to develop its full potential. That is true power ¨C the ability to bring out the best in others and in ourselves."


    Valentina stared at the rose, her mind working feverishly. Was that what she was missing? In her desperation, had she been looking for an external solution instead of using her own inner strength?


    The gardener got up with difficulty, his rake crunching on the gravel path. "Think about it, child. Sometimes we find the greatest strength in the moment we are willing to risk everything ¨C not for power, but for something greater than ourselves. Our faith. Or our family."


    With these words, he nodded to her and walked slowly down the path, soon swallowed up by the darkness.


    Valentina was left alone, her head buzzing with the old man''s words. She thought of her family, of the competition, of the forbidden book. Was she prepared to risk everything? And if so, for what?Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on.


    Night had now fallen completely, and the Burning Tower shone brightly on the horizon. Valentina stared into the flame for a long time, as if searching for answers. Slowly, a determination began to form inside her.


    She stood up, her decision made. No matter which path she would take, she would do it with everything she had. No more half measures, no more compromises.


    With firm steps, she made her way back to the dormitory. She had a lot to prepare and the night was still young. As she opened the door to her room, her eyes fell on the hidden forbidden book. She hesitated for a moment, then reached for it with determination. She would use all the resources at her disposal. But she would be careful, wise. She would not make the same mistake as the Essence Weaver from the Gardener''s Tale.


    The tower clock struck midnight. Her heart hammered in her chest, a mixture of fear and determination coursing through her. With trembling hands, she knelt down in front of her bed, the carved amulet in the shape of the Burning Tower in her hand. Valentina closed her eyes and began to pray, her voice barely more than a whisper.


    "Martyr, forgive me for what I am about to do. I know it''s wrong, but I see no other way out. Please, give me the strength to find the right path and protect me from the dangers that lie ahead."


    A single tear rolled down her cheek as she finished the prayer. She remained motionless on her knees for a moment, then rose with renewed determination.


    Valentina began to gather the materials she needed. The forbidden book had given her a precise list: salt enriched with Essences, candles made of pure beeswax, rare herbs for the protection ritual. She had already collected many of them in secret, or rather stolen them from the university. She would find the herbs in the forest.


    The last thing she took out was a small silver pendant. It was simple but finely crafted - a gift from her mother. Valentina swallowed hard. This would serve as a focus for the binding.


    With practiced movements, she packed everything into a worn leather bag. She carefully hid the forbidden book under her clothes. Then she listened at the door. The corridor was silent.


    As quietly as a shadow, Valentina slipped out of her room and crept down the stairs. Her heart stopped for a moment when a floorboard creaked under her feet, but no one seemed to have heard it.


    When she reached the first floor, she paused. Through a window, she could see the security guard doing his rounds on campus. She waited until he had disappeared around a corner, then scurried to the back door.


    The cool night air greeted her as she stepped outside. The Burning Tower loomed in the distance, its eternal flame a silent reproach. Valentina forced herself not to look.


    She hurried across the campus with quick steps, always ready to hide behind bushes or statues in case someone came. Once she had to hastily squeeze into the shadow of a building when two students returned late from the library.


    At last she reached the edge of the campus. The town of Bridgewater stretched out before her, a labyrinth of narrow streets and tall buildings. In the distance, she could hear the shouts of the town guard calling out the hour.


    Valentina pulled the hood of her cloak lower over her face and plunged into the shadows of the city. She knew the way well.


    She scurried through deserted alleyways, dodging drunken night owls and always keeping an eye out for the city guard''s lanterns. Once she had to hide behind a pile of barrels when a patrol passed by. Her heart raced as the heavy footsteps of the guards approached and then disappeared again into the distance.


    After what seemed like an eternity, Valentina finally reached the outskirts of the city. A little further on, the dark forest stretched out before her. She hesitated briefly, then plucked up her courage and stepped between the trees.


    The forest was silent, interrupted only occasionally by the call of an owl or the rustling of small animals in the undergrowth. Valentina made her way through the thicket, guided by the faint light of the moon shining through the branches.


    After a while, she reached a small clearing. It was circular, as if nature itself had created it for this purpose. In the center stood a single, ancient tree. The herbs they needed grew from its roots.


    Valentina knew immediately that this was the right place.


    With trembling hands, she began to unpack her materials and pick the herbs. Her heart pounded in her chest as she took one last look at the preparations. She pulled out the forbidden book again. The leather-bound pages felt cold, almost as if they were sucking the warmth from her fingers. Valentina turned to the marked page and began to draw the intricate outer summoning circle.


    The Essence-enriched salt glowed faintly as she drew the lines. Every symbol had to be perfect. A single mistake could have disastrous consequences. Beads of sweat formed on Valentina''s forehead as she concentrated on copying the intricate patterns from the book.


    When the outer circle was complete, Valentina paused. Her eyes wandered to the silver pendant that lay in the center of the circle. Her mother''s gift, now the focus for a forbidden ritual. A stab of guilt ran through her.


    "What am I doing here?" she whispered into the stillness of the night.


    For a moment, she was overcome with the urge to call it all off, run back to university and forget this madness. But then she thought of her father''s letter, of the debt, of the despair in his words. She thought of Faustus and the other rich students bragging about their resources. Of the Greystone Competition and what it could mean for her family.


    With renewed determination, Valentina knelt down again and began to draw the inner circle. Each symbol was drawn with precise care, each line filled with the power of her desperation and determination.


    When the last line was drawn, Valentina stood up. The circles glowed softly now in the darkness, pulsing with hidden energy. The Bankreizh was finished. She stepped into the outer circle and stood directly in front of the inner circle, clutching the book tightly to her chest.


    A cool wind came up, rustling the leaves of the trees and making the candle flames dance. It was as if the forest was holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come.


    Valentina closed her eyes briefly, gathering all her courage. Then she began to speak, her voice trembling at first, then becoming firmer and firmer:


    "Ich riuhe dich, w?sen der zw?chenwalt. H?re m?ne wort, enpfahhe m?n gemuete."


    The words of the forbidden book flowed from her lips, a mixture of Altothal and a language that sounded even older and stranger. With each word, the air around her seemed to grow denser, charged with invisible tension.


    "Durch ?zzen gebunden, durch willen geruofen. Ersch?ne vor mir, n?m gestalt in diser werlt!"


    The wind picked up, becoming a howl that threatened to tear the words from Valentina''s mouth. The candles flickered wildly, casting twitching shadows on the forest floor. The incantation circle began to glow brighter, the symbols seemed to move, to dance.


    Valentina felt her hair literally stand up. The air crackled. Something was approaching, something old, something different, something powerful. She could feel its presence scratching at the boundaries of reality, trying to break through.


    Valentina doubted for a moment. Was it too late to stop? Had she made a terrible mistake?


    But there was no turning back. The last words of the incantation left her lips, echoing across the clearing:


    "Ich offenne daz tor. Ich biete dir inlaz. Kom zu mir!"


    A bright flame exploded from the center of the circle, scorchingly hot. Valentina was thrown back by an invisible force, stumbled and almost fell out of the outer circle. The forbidden book slipped from her hands, skittering across the floor.


    When the fire faded and Valentina looked up, blinking, she froze. There, in the center of the circle, where only her silver pendant had been before, a figure unfolded from nowhere. Shadowy at first, then getting more and more contrast.


    A wall of glowing eyes opened, fixing Valentina with a manifold gaze. A voice, which seemed to be in her head and in the air around her at the same time, carved words into her consciousness:


    "What do you want?"


    Valentina stared wide-eyed at the apparition, unable to answer. What had she done?

 Chapter 8 - Eyes in the Darkness

    The demon before her had unfurled from nothingness, like a boil that burst into reality, leaving layers of Essence that overlapped and disappeared again. Its body was false, as if it existed in multiple planes, none of which quite harmonized with the other. Grotesque limbs stretched at impossible angles, disappearing and reappearing as if they were in a bizarre dance that seemed to disregard the sheer concept of space.


    But the worst part was the eyes.


    A web of eyes began to form in the demonic presence. Hundreds, perhaps thousands of eyes, each of them different sizes and shapes, opened in the darkness. They stared, their pupils twisted and unfathomable, as if peering through every layer of her soul, searching for the deepest fears and secrets, opening here, closing there, blinking elsewhere.


    The Essence around the demon began to transform into dark swirls, churning and distorted as if being sucked into an infinite abyss. Valentina could no longer grasp the patterns of the Essence, which were normally clear and symmetrical. The Essence resisted. It became chaotic, devoid of order as if it had been corrupted from within.


    The demon itself seemed to be made of pure Essence corruption, a knot of malevolence whose boundaries were blurred, its form reshaping itself in irregular twitches. And yet it radiated a strange gravity, as if everything near it ¨C the foliage, the ground, the air itself ¨C was slowly being pulled towards it. Light bent around it, and where its presence was strongest, the world seemed to fall into a deep, unfathomable darkness.


    Valentina could never have imagined this creature. Nothing about it made sense. The eyes that rested on her were seemingly everywhere ¨C and yet the demon did not seem complete. Its body was only visible in fragments as if her mind was unable to fully comprehend its entire form. It was as if she only ever saw a part of it ¨C an arm sticking out of nothing at an impossible angle, a gaping hole that couldn''t decide whether it was a mouth, a maw, or an abyss.


    Valentina stared wide-eyed at the apparition before her and, with trembling hands, hastily began to perform the ritual to bind the demon. Her voice broke as she spoke the first words of the formula, weaving the first patterns.


    The demon made a noise that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up, its limbs whipping through the air but still unable to reach her. "Don''t you dare, mortal!" its voice struck Valentina''s mind like a blow with a mace.


    But Valentina continued undeterred, sweat pouring down her forehead as she laid down one rule after another: "You must not communicate with hell. You must not harm me. You must not harm anyone around me. You may not leave the vessel to which you are bound unless I destroy it deliberately, in which case you must return to hell."


    The demon writhed in agony as each rule restricted it further. Valentina took a deep breath, ready to utter the crucial rule that would force the demon to obey her commands.


    But at that moment, something unexpected happened, something completely ridiculous. A black cat ¨C the same one Valentina had seen earlier in the university garden ¨C suddenly jumped into the summoning circle. Its paws blurred some of the symbols in the inner circle, and the entire circle began to flicker and disintegrate.


    "No!" Valentina screamed as she saw her carefully drawn lines dissolve.


    The world around Valentina exploded in a whirl of light and shadow. A deafening bang echoed through the clearing, followed by a silence so deep it rang in her ears. The smell of burnt wood hung heavy in the air.


    Valentina blinked, trying to clear her vision. Where the summoning circle had been before, she saw only charred earth. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breathing was shallow and fast. Where was the demon?


    Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her body. It felt as if liquid fire was flowing through her veins. Valentina screamed, fell to her knees and clutched her upper body. The world around her blurred as an alien presence spread through her consciousness.


    "Aaah, what a wonderful feeling," sighed a voice in her head, whispering delightedly. The voice was neither male nor female, neither young nor old. It sounded like a thousand voices speaking at the same time.


    "Who... what are you?" Valentina gasped, her own voice barely more than a whisper.


    "I am Vyxara," the voice replied. "And you, little Weaver, have summoned me."


    Panic and horror rose up in Valentina. This was not what she had planned. She had hoped to bind the demon to the pendant, not to herself. "No," she muttered, "no, no, no. It can''t be."


    A laugh, cold as ice and sharp as a blade, echoed through her mind. "Oh, but it is. You opened the gate and I stepped through. Now we are bound together, you and I."


    Valentina forced herself to take a deep breath. She had to keep a clear head. With trembling hands, she reached for the forbidden book lying on the floor next to her. Perhaps there was a way to undo this.


    "There is no turning back, little Weaver," Vyxara said as if the demon had read her mind. "The pact is made. But do not be afraid. I can give you power that others can only dream of."


    "I don''t want power," Valentina hissed between clenched teeth. "I want you to disappear!"


    Another laugh. "That''s not possible. But perhaps you should hurry. Morning is approaching, and I doubt you want to be found here."


    Valentina looked up and realized with horror that the eastern sky was already bathed in a soft pink. Dawn was breaking. If she didn''t return to the university soon, her disappearance would be noticed.


    With a suppressed curse, she hastily began to pack up the remains of the ritual. Her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped the book twice. Each time it fell to the floor, a stab of fear ran through her. What if someone had heard the noise?


    "Calm down, little Weaver," whispered Vyxara. "Let me help you."


    Suddenly, Valentina felt a strange power flowing through her limbs. Her hands stopped trembling, her movements became more confident, more precise. In a matter of seconds, she had stowed everything away in her worn leather bag.


    "What have you done?" she asked, half fascinated, half horrified.


    "I''ve given you a taste of what I can offer you," Vyxara replied. "Together we can achieve great things."


    Valentina shook her head, trying to ignore the demon''s words. She had to concentrate on her immediate situation. The forest around her slowly came to life. In the distance, she heard the call of a bird, the rustling of small animals in the undergrowth.


    With one last glance at the clearing, she made her way back to the town. Every step felt heavy, as if she was fighting against an invisible resistance. Vyxara''s presence in her mind was like a constant hum, a pressure that never let up.


    When she reached the edge of the forest, Valentina paused. The rooftops of Bridgewater were silhouetted against the brightening sky. In the distance, she could already make out the silhouette of the Burning Tower.


    "You already regret it, don''t you?" Vyxara''s voice was gentle, almost compassionate. "But it''s too late for regrets. We are one now, you and I. The sooner you accept that, the easier it will be for you."


    Valentina bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. "I''ll find a way to get rid of you," she swore softly.


    "Maybe," Vyxara replied, amused. "But until then, we should make the most of our time together, don''t you think?"


    Before Valentina could answer, she heard the creaking of wagon wheels in the distance. The first merchants and farmers were making their way into the town. She had to hurry.


    With a deep breath, Valentina straightened her shoulders and stepped out of the shelter of the trees. The walk back to the university would be dangerous, but she had no choice. She had to make it back to her room before someone noticed she was missing.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    As she moved carefully through the awakening city, Valentina felt Vyxara''s presence growing in her mind. The demon seemed to be watching her every move, analyzing her every decision. It was as if she suddenly had a second consciousness, strange and yet strangely intimate.


    The streets of Bridgewater, normally so familiar, now seemed to her like a labyrinth full of danger. Every shadow could conceal a guard, every open window a prying eye. Valentina darted from one dark corner to the next, her heart beating so loudly that she feared it might betray her.


    "You''re too tense," Vyxara commented. "Relax. The more nervous you seem, the more attention you''ll attract."


    "Shut up," Valentina hissed through clenched teeth. "You''re the reason for this whole situation."


    A soft laugh echoed through her mind. "Oh, little Weaver. I may be the reason, but you''re the one who summoned me. Don''t forget that."


    Valentina wanted to say something back, but at that moment she heard footsteps approaching. She hastily ducked behind a pile of barrels. Her breath caught as she saw two members of the city guard walk past, their lanterns swinging rhythmically back and forth.


    "Did you hear that?" one of the guards suddenly asked and stopped.


    Valentina pressed herself closer to the barrels, her heart pounding so loudly that she was sure the guards must be able to hear it.


    "What is it?" asked the other guard, bored.


    "I thought I heard something. Like a whisper."


    Valentina froze. Had one of the guards heard Vyxara''s voice?


    "Impossible," whispered the demon in her head. "Only you can hear me."


    The first guard shrugged his shoulders. "Probably just a cat or something. Come on, let''s keep moving. I''m freezing my ass off and I want a cup of hot milk before sunrise."


    The guards'' footsteps slowly moved away. Valentina waited a moment before carefully emerging from behind the barrels. Her body trembled with tension and suppressed fear.


    "You see?" said Vyxara. "Everything went well. With my help, you can learn to move like a shadow, unseen and unheard."


    "I don''t want your help," Valentina muttered as she continued on her way. The towers of Bridgewater University were now in sight, both a promise of safety and a reminder of the danger of her situation.


    When she finally reached the campus, the sky began to turn golden. The first students would be waking up soon. Valentina scurried across the courtyard, her footsteps soft on the dewy grass.


    She reached the entrance to her dormitory and carefully opened the heavy wooden door. The creaking of the hinges sounded deafeningly loud in the stillness of the early morning.


    "To the left," Vyxara suddenly whispered. "Someone''s coming down the stairs."


    Without hesitation, Valentina followed the demon''s instructions and ducked into a dark alcove. Seconds later, a sleepy student walked past her, obviously on her way to the privy. Valentina waited until the footsteps had faded before she emerged from her hiding place. Heart pounding, she climbed the stairs to her room, each creak of the old wooden steps making her wince.


    She finally reached her door. With trembling hands, she slid the key into the lock and turned it. The soft click as the door burst open sounded like the sweetest music to Valentina.


    She slipped into her room and closed the door behind her. Only now, in the safety of her familiar four walls, did she allow herself to take a deep breath. She had made it. She was back, undetected.


    But when she turned around and her gaze fell on the small tarnished mirror on the wall, she froze. For a moment, she thought she saw a strange gleam in her eyes, a hint of something different and malevolent. Valentina sat on her narrow bed, her hands folded in her lap to calm her trembling. The faint light of the rising sun filtered through the small window and cast long shadows in the small attic room. In the distance, the bells of the Burning Tower rang out the first hour of the day.


    "All right," she finally whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "Let''s talk."


    A soft laugh echoed through her mind. "Oh, now you want to talk, little Weaver? After you tore me from my realm and bound me to you?"


    Valentina swallowed hard. "I... I didn''t mean to bind you to me. That was an accident."


    "An accident?" Vyxara''s voice dripped with sarcasm. "You drew a forbidden Bankreizh, spoke forbidden words and opened a gateway between the realms. That wasn''t an accident, Valentina. That was a choice."


    The way the demon pronounced her name made Valentina shudder. The people at home pronounced her name like that. It sounded intimate, almost tender, and yet there was an underlying threat in it.


    "Who... What are you?" she asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.


    Silence reigned for a moment. Then Vyxara began to speak, and Valentina''s mind filled with images of fire and shadow, of endless empty expanses and the soft cries of countless human voices.


    "I am Vyxara, a being from the realm beyond your mortal world. I am as old as time itself and have seen civilizations rise and fall. I am knowledge and power."


    The demon''s words made Valentina''s head spin. She tried to process the information, to put it into a context that she could understand.


    "But... the teachings of the church say that demons are evil, that they bring destruction and torture human souls after death," she said hesitantly.


    Vyxara laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Oh, little Weaver. The church knows so little about us. We are neither good nor evil in the human sense. We don¡¯t share your values, and our goals are not aligned. That¡¯s all. We are just... different."


    Valentina frowned. "But the Martyr..."


    "The Martyr," Vyxara interrupted her, "was a man who saw and did things beyond your understanding. He did not defeat or banish us. He merely... negotiated a treaty. And now he is more like us than he is like you."


    These words shook Valentina. Everything she had learned about the Martyr and his fight against the demons suddenly seemed to be called into question.


    "And now?" she asked quietly. "What happens to us now?"


    "Well," Vyxara said, and Valentina could hear the amusement in the demon''s voice, "now we''re bound to each other. You summoned me to this world, and I cannot return unless you die."


    A cold shiver ran down Valentina''s spine. "And... how long are you going to stay?"


    "As long as you live, little Weaver. Or until you find a way to let me go. But be warned: it won''t be easy. I know of no such way."


    Valentina felt panic rising inside her. The thought of being bound to this creature for the rest of her life was overwhelming.


    "No," she whispered, "no, it can''t be. There must be a way to get rid of you."


    "Oh, there might be," Vyxara said softly. "But do you really want that? Think of all the power, all the knowledge I can offer you. Together we could accomplish wonderful things."


    Valentina shook her head. "I don''t want power. I just... I just want my normal life back."


    A sigh echoed through her mind. "Your ''normal life'' is over, Valentina. The moment you summoned me, you left that path. But maybe that''s not as bad as you think."


    "What do you mean?"


    "I have seen your thoughts, your memories," Vyxara explained. "I know about your family, about your debts, about your desire to win the Greystone Competition. I can help you achieve all that. And maybe I can even help you achieve the things you hardly dare to admit, even to yourself, even in your most private thoughts. I know how ambitious you are."


    Valentina winced. The temptation was great, she couldn''t deny it. She had to think about her family. With Vyxara''s help, she might really be able to solve all her problems. But at what cost?


    "And what would you ask in return?" she asked cautiously.


    "Oh, not much," Vyxara replied lightly. "Just the opportunity to see, learn, taste, feel and experience this world through your eyes and through your body."


    Valentina blinked in surprise. "You''re... curious about our world?"


    "Of course," said Vyxara. "Your world is fascinating. So many experiences to savor. Art. Music. Food. Sex. Essence Weaving."


    Although Vyxara''s explanation brought a blush to her cheeks, the mention of Essence Weaving made Valentina sit up and take notice. "You know about that... Essence Weaving I mean?"


    A soft laugh. "Oh, little Weaver. I know the secrets of Essences better than any mortal teacher. I could teach you things your professors couldn''t even dream of."


    Valentina felt her heart beat faster. The idea of having access to such knowledge was tempting. But tempting enough to risk her very soul?


    "I... I don''t know," she said hesitantly. "It''s all so much at once. I need time to think about it."


    "Time," Vyxara repeated thoughtfully. "Yes, time is something you mortals always have too little of. But don''t worry, Valentina. We have all the time in the world now."


    A knock on the door made Valentina flinch. "Val?" It was Innogen''s voice. "Are you awake? Breakfast is about to start."


    "I... I''ll be right there!" Valentina called back, her voice higher than she intended.


    "Ah, your friend," Vyxara remarked with amusement. "She''s worried about you. How touching."


    "Shut up," Valentina hissed. "You mustn''t interfere when I''m talking to others."


    "As you wish, little Weaver," Vyxara said, and Valentina could hear the amusement in the demon''s voice. "But don''t forget: I''m always here, even when I''m silent."


    Valentina closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She had to keep a clear head. She had to appear normal and not make anyone suspicious if she didn''t want to end up in the hands of the Illumination of the Church of the Martyr and be burned at the stake.


    "All right," she finally said quietly. "Let''s... let''s call a truce. I''ll try to accept you, and you... you will not get in my way when I interact with others. Agreed?"


    Silence reigned in her head for a moment. Then Valentina felt something change inside her, as if an invisible contract had been sealed.


    "Agreed," Vyxara finally said. "A truce. But remember, little Weaver: I''m here to learn, to experience. I won''t just sit quietly in a corner of your mind."


    Valentina nodded slowly. "I understand. But please, give me time to get used to all this."


    "Time," Vyxara repeated again thoughtfully. "Yes, let''s take all the time we need. This is the beginning of an... interesting partnership, Valentina. I can''t wait to see where it will take us."


    With these words, Valentina felt Vyxara''s presence recede in her mind, not disappearing, but becoming less dominant. She took a deep breath and stood up. It was time to face the world, with a demon as her silent companion.


    When she opened the door, Innogen was already waiting in the hallway. Her friend looked at her anxiously. "Are you all right, Val? You look pale."


    Valentina forced herself to smile. "It''s all good. I just... didn¡¯t sleep too much."


    In her head, she heard Vyxara''s soft laughter. "Oh yes", it thought. "This is going to be an interesting partnership indeed."


    With a final deep breath, she followed Innogen down the stairs to breakfast.

 Chapter 9 - A Dangerous Bargain

    The dining room hummed with life as Valentina entered with Innogen. The smell of bread and hot porridge filled the air. Students crowded around the long tables and benches, their conversations mingling into a constant background noise.


    Valentina mechanically took her breakfast, her mind still foggy with fatigue and the events of the night. She followed Innogen to an empty seat, nodding absently to the greetings of her fellow students.


    "Fascinating," Vyxara murmured in her head. "So many young minds, so full of potential and ambition."


    "Shut up," Valentina hissed quietly, which earned her a questioning look from Innogen.


    "Are you all right, Val?" her friend asked worriedly.


    Valentina forced herself to smile. "Yeah, just... tired. Didn''t sleep well."


    She took a bite of her bread but hardly tasted anything. Her head was full of questions, of fears. How should she deal with this new reality?


    "You should eat," Vyxara commented. "Your body needs energy, especially after last night''s exertions."


    Valentina ignored the demon and concentrated on the conversation around her instead. Edgar, who was sitting opposite them, was excitedly discussing the recent advanced tutorial with Professor Thornfield.


    "Professor Thornfield spoke at length about the Vanderlieu spiral," he said, his eyes shining. "I can hardly wait until the next lesson!"


    Valentina felt another stab of envy.


    "I could show you how to weave the Vanderlieu spiral," Vyxara whispered enticingly. "It''s really quite simple if you know the trick."


    Valentina froze. The temptation was great, she couldn''t deny it. But...


    "At what price?" she murmured quietly.


    "Oh, not much," Vyxara replied lightly. "Maybe a small favor. Nothing that would hurt you."


    Valentina frowned. "What do you mean by ''favor''?"


    "Well," Vyxara began, "let me explain it this way. Every time you enlist my help, we have to make a deal. A give and take, if you will."


    "What kind of deal?" Valentina asked cautiously, as quietly as possible so as not to attract attention.


    "That depends entirely on what you ask of me," Vyxara explained. "The greater the help, the greater the price. It could be something as simple as looking through your eyes at something that interests me. Or something more complex, like... well, let''s say a small task you fulfill for me."


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. "What kind of task?"


    A soft laugh echoed through her mind. "Nothing bad, little Weaver. Maybe get a book from the forbidden section of the library. Or perform a certain ritual. Maybe a sweet little kiss on a tantalizing mouth. Nothing that would harm your precious morals."


    There was no mistaking the sarcastic undertone in Vyxara''s voice. Valentina swallowed hard. The idea of having access to such knowledge was tempting. But was it worth it?


    "I... I don''t know," she said hesitantly.


    "You don''t have to decide right away," Vyxara said gently. "But think about it. Imagine what you could achieve. The Greystone Competition would only be the beginning."


    Valentina closed her eyes for a moment. The temptation was great, she couldn''t deny it. With Vyxara''s help, maybe she really could solve all her problems. Lift her family out of poverty, pay off her debts, start a brilliant career as Essence Weaver...


    But what if the ¡®favors¡¯ that Vyxara demanded became ever greater, ever more dangerous? What if she ended up losing her soul?


    "Val?" Innogen''s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "You''re so quiet today. Are you sure everything''s all right?"


    Valentina forced herself to smile. "Yes, I''m sorry. I''m just... in thought."


    "A clever lie," Vyxara commented with amusement. "Maybe you do have more potential than I thought."


    "Shut up," Valentina hissed, quietly enough for no one to hear.


    The rest of breakfast passed as if in a fog. Valentina ate mechanically, nodding in the right places in conversation, but her mind was elsewhere. She weighed up the pros and cons, played through various scenarios.This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    When they finally got up to go to their lectures, she still hadn''t made a decision. But she knew she had to be careful. Vyxara might seem helpful, but the demon certainly had its own plans.


    "You think too much, little Weaver," Vyxara said as they left the dining hall. "Sometimes you just have to go with the flow of life and see where it takes you."


    Valentina shook her head slightly. "Not if this flow leads down the drain," she muttered and entered the lecture hall.


    ~


    Valentina entered Professor Horne''s Essence Theory lecture hall with a sense of trepidation. The room was already full, the hum of hushed conversation filling the air. She found a seat near the exit, not far from Elara of Willowbrook, unsure if she could handle Vyxara''s presence in such a demanding environment.


    Professor Horne, let his eyes roam over Valentina and Elara, the smile of his yellow teeth a touch too wide. "Oh, how interesting," Vyxara giggled in her thoughts. "What do you mean?" Valentina whispered softly. "He wants you. Both of you. Preferably at the same time." Vyxara replied, amused. "Stop it!" Valentina hissed between her teeth. She knew how Professor Horne looked at his female students. Almost all the young women here knew that, and Valentina may have come from a very pious family, but she wasn''t stupid.


    "Today," Professor Horne began in a croaky voice, "we will be looking at the more complex aspects of Leb-Essence. In particular, we will examine how it interacts with Viur-Essence."


    Valentina pulled out her quill, ready to take notes. But no sooner had Professor Horne started to draw the first diagrams on the board than Vyxara spoke up.


    "Interesting," the demon muttered. "He''s got the basic structure almost right. But do you see the flaw in his second equation?"


    Valentina frowned. "Shut up," she whispered as quietly as possible. "I need to concentrate."


    "Oh, but I could teach you so much more than that... aging mortal," Vyxara replied, amused. "For example, he obviously knows nothing of the triple resonance between Leb, Viur and Z?t."


    Despite her reluctance, Valentina felt her curiosity being aroused. "Triple resonance?" she murmured.


    "Valentina?" Professor Horne''s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Do you have a question?"


    Valentina blushed as all eyes turned to her. "I... uh... I was just wondering if there was a connection between Leb, Viur and Z?t," she stammered.


    Professor Horne raised his eyebrows in surprise. "An interesting question. Indeed, there are theories about complex interactions between these three Essence types, but that is far beyond the scope of this lecture."


    "You see?" whispered Vyxara triumphantly. "I could teach you things that your professors haven''t the slightest idea about, that their grandchildren and their grandchildren¡¯s grandchildren will have no idea about."


    Valentina ignored the demon and concentrated on the lecture again. But she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Vyxara''s comments and observations, sometimes mocking, sometimes intriguing, sometimes lewd, kept distracting her.


    When Professor Horne finally announced a practical exercise, Valentina felt her stomach tighten. They were to weave a complex living-Essence pattern that interacted with Viur-Essence.


    "Remember," Professor Horne explained as he drew the pattern on the board, "balance is key. Too much Viur, and the Leb pattern becomes unstable. Too little, and it won''t have the desired effect."


    Valentina stared at the complicated diagram and felt panic rising inside her. She had barely had enough Distilled Essence for her exercises in the last few weeks. How was she supposed to cope?


    "You could accept my help," Vyxara suggested gently. "I could show you how to weave the pattern perfectly."


    Valentina hesitated. The temptation was great. She knew she needed this exercise so she wouldn''t fall behind in class. But the thought of trading with the demon scared her.


    "What would you ask for it?" she asked quietly, while around her the other students began to pull out their Essence containers.


    "Oh, nothing big," Vyxara replied lightly. "Maybe you could take a little trip to the forbidden section of the library tonight. There''s a certain book there that I''d like to... study."


    Valentina swallowed hard. Breaking into the forbidden section was a serious offense. If she was caught...


    "Valentina?" Professor Horne''s voice snapped her out of her thoughts again. "Are you having problems with the assignment?"


    Valentina looked up and noticed that most of her classmates had already started weaving. Fine threads of Leb and Viur Essence floated in the air, forming complex patterns.


    "I... I''ll be fine, Professor," she lied hastily, reaching for her meager supply of Distilled Essence.


    With trembling hands, she began to weave the pattern. But it soon became clear that she was overwhelmed. The Leb-Essence was too weak, the Viur-Essence too unstable. The pattern began to flicker and disintegrate.


    "Last chance, little Weaver," whispered Vyxara. "Accept my help or fail in front of all your classmates."


    Valentina bit her lip. She could feel Professor Horne watching her, some of her fellow students whispering and pointing at her failed pattern. The shame and frustration threatened to overwhelm her.


    At that moment, she made a decision. "All right," she whispered barely audibly. "Help me."


    She immediately felt a strange power flowing into her hands. Her movements became more confident, more precise. The Essence pattern in front of her began to stabilize and take shape.


    Professor Horne stepped closer, his eyes widening in surprise. "Impressive how you saved that, Valentina," he murmured. "A very... unusual technique. But extremely effective."


    Valentina smiled faintly as she looked at the now perfect pattern. A roaring feeling of triumph flowed through her, mixed with a deep unease. Had it been the right call?


    When the lecture ended and the students left the hall, Valentina stayed seated for a moment longer. Her heart was racing and her hands were shaking slightly.


    "You see?" said Vyxara gently. "Together we can achieve great things. And that was just the beginning."


    Valentina nodded silently. She knew that she had just taken a dangerous path. But a part of her, a part she barely wanted to acknowledge, was excited by the possibilities that were now opening up to her.


    With a deep breath, she stood up and left the lecture hall. The night was going to be interesting, that was for sure. And as she made her way to her next lecture, she could hear Vyxara''s soft, contented laughter in her head.

 Chapter 10 - The First Favor

    "That was quite amusing," Vyxara commented in her head. "Your professor, the horny goat, seemed quite surprised by your sudden... expertise."


    "Shut up," Valentina murmured quietly as she tried to find her way through the stream of students all hurrying to their next lectures.


    "Val! Hey, Val!" A familiar voice made them pause. Innogen made her way through the crowd, closely followed by a breathless-looking Crispin.


    "Oh, hello, you two," Valentina said, trying to put on a smile. "How was your lecture?"


    Innogen frowned. "Forget our lecture. What''s wrong with you? You look like you''ve seen a ghost."


    "If only she knew," Vyxara giggled.


    Valentina suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "I''m fine, really. Professor Horne''s lecture was just... intense."


    Crispin nodded sympathetically. "Oh yeah, I heard he covered the interaction between Leb and Viur today. Pretty complicated stuff."


    "Speaking of complicated," Innogen interjected as they strolled towards the courtyard, "have you heard about Faustus'' latest escapade?"


    Valentina shook her head, grateful for the distraction. "What did he do this time?"


    Innogen''s eyes sparkled with suppressed laughter. "He was trying to impress Professor Emberfell by demonstrating a ''revolutionary new weaving technique''."


    Crispin snorted. "Let me guess: It went wrong?"


    "Oh, and how it went wrong!" Innogen grinned broadly. "He somehow blended Luvt and Viur in a wrong way and... well, let''s just say his eyebrows were a little shorter afterward."


    Valentina couldn''t help but laugh, despite the constant buzzing of Vyxara''s presence in her head. "Oh Martyr, I would have loved to have seen that."


    "Amusing," Vyxara commented dryly. "Although, with the right technique, such a mixture could achieve interesting results."


    Valentina froze for a moment, startled by the demon''s sudden interjection.


    "Val?" Crispin''s worried voice snapped her out of her thoughts. "Are you all right?"


    "Yes, yes," she said hastily. "I was just thinking... um... if there was any way to really blend Luvt and Viur."


    Innogen raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Theoretically, perhaps, but that would be far beyond our current level. Even Professor Thornfield would hesitate."


    "Oh, if they only knew," Vyxara whispered, amused. "Shall I show you how it''s done?"


    "No!" Valentina shouted loudly before she could stop herself.


    Innogen and Crispin stared at her in surprise. "Uh, Val?" Crispin said cautiously. "No one''s offered you anything."


    Valentina felt the blush rise to her face. "Oh, I... I was just thinking out loud. About the Luvt-Viur thing, I mean. It probably wouldn''t be a good idea to try that, would it?"


    Innogen laughed. "Definitely not, unless you want to end up like Faustus. Although..." She grinned mischievously. "The bald look might suit you, Val."


    "Oh, shut up," Valentina replied, playfully nudging her friend. For a moment, she felt normal again, as if everything was as it had always been.


    But then Vyxara spoke up again. "You should be more careful, little Weaver. Your friends are suspicious."


    Valentina tried to ignore the demon, but she could feel her tension building up again. She noticed the worried looks Innogen and Crispin were exchanging and knew she had to pull herself together.


    "So," she said in an attempt to steer the conversation in a safer direction, "have you thought about the Greystone Competition?"


    Crispin nodded eagerly. "Oh yes, I''m already working on some ideas for my project. I''m thinking of something with Leb-Essence for food preservation."


    "That sounds fascinating," said Valentina, genuinely interested. "How are you going to go about it?"


    As Crispin launched into a detailed explanation of his theory, Valentina felt Vyxara stirring in her mind.


    "Food preservation? How... mundane. I could show you techniques that would not only preserve food, but improve it. Imagine: Fruit that never spoils, meat that heals you from the inside out..."


    Valentina shook her head slightly, trying to block out the demon''s tantalizing words. Instead, she concentrated on Crispin''s explanation, nodding and asking questions in the right places.


    Innogen, who had been watching Valentina closely, intervened. "That sounds really interesting, Crispin. But what about you, Val? Do you already have plans for the competition?"


    Valentina hesitated. She didn''t have any concrete ideas yet, at least none that she could implement without Vyxara''s help. "I''m... I''m still working on it," she finally said.


    "Oh, I have a few suggestions," Vyxara whispered tantalizingly. "Things that would leave your professors speechless."


    "No, thank you," Valentina mumbled before she could stop herself.


    "What?" asked Innogen, confused.


    Valentina turned pale. "I mean... no, thank you, I don''t need help with my ideas. I want to figure it out for myself."


    Innogen and Crispin exchanged a worried glance. "Val," Innogen said gently, "are you sure everything''s all right? You seem so... distracted today."


    Valentina felt panic rising inside her. She had to think of something, and fast. "I... it''s just... the pressure, you know? The competition, my family''s debts... It''s just a lot sometimes."


    Crispin''s eyes widened sympathetically. "Oh Val, I''m sorry about that. I wish there was something we could do to help you."


    Innogen nodded in agreement. "Yes, if you need anything ¨C help with your studies, someone to talk to ¨C we''re here for you."


    Valentina felt a stab of guilt. Her friends had been so understanding, so supportive. And here she was, lying to them and hiding a dangerous secret from them.


    "Touching," Vyxara commented sarcastically. "But what can they offer you compared to me?"


    "Shut up," Valentina hissed quietly.Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    "What?" asked Crispin.


    Valentina forced herself to smile. "Oh, nothing. I was just saying... Thank you. You really are the best friends anyone could ask for."


    At that moment, the bell sounded, announcing the start of the next lectures. Students around her began to move with haste.


    "Oh, we have to go," Innogen said. "Val, are you sure you''re okay?"


    Valentina nodded. "Yes, really. Don''t worry about me."


    As they said goodbye and walked off in different directions, Valentina felt the tension building up inside her. She knew she had to be more careful. Her friends were suspicious, and the longer she kept her secret, the harder it would be to hide it.


    "You learn quickly, little Weaver," Vyxara said approvingly. "But don''t forget: the more you lie, the deeper you become entangled. We can keep the secret, but you''ll have to make a decision at some point."


    Valentina sighed softly. She knew the demon was right. But for now, she could only hope that she could maintain the balance between her old life and her new reality. With heavy steps, she made her way to her next lecture.


    ~


    Dusk was falling over Bridgewater University when Valentina entered the library after her last lecture for the day. Students sat hunched over books at long tables, the soft rustle of pages and the occasional whisper creating a muted background noise.


    "It''s time, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered in her head. "I have helped you. Now it''s up to you to fulfill your part of the bargain."


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. She had hoped the demon would forget, or at least wait until she was better prepared. "Now?" she murmured quietly. "Here?"


    "Yes, now," Vyxara replied impatiently. "You promised to get a book for me. From the forbidden section."


    Valentina swallowed hard. The forbidden section of the library was strictly guarded. Only selected professors and advanced students had access. Breaking in there would not only be dangerous, but could cost her her entire academic future.


    "I can''t do it," she whispered as she pretended to take a book off a shelf. "It''s too risky."


    "Too risky?" Vyxara''s voice dripped with sarcasm. "Riskier than summoning a demon? Oh, little Weaver, you''re already in far too deep to back out now."


    Valentina felt panic rising inside her. She went to a secluded table in a corner of the library and sat down, burying her face in her hands.


    "What do you want this book for anyway?" she asked quietly.


    "Knowledge," replied Vyxara. "Knowledge that even your oh-so-wise professors don''t understand. Knowledge that I will share with you if you are brave enough to take it."


    Valentina hesitated. The temptation was great, she couldn''t deny it. With this knowledge, perhaps she could...


    "No," she said firmly. "I''m not going to break into the forbidden section. It''s too dangerous."


    She could feel Vyxara''s presence swelling in her mind, dark and menacing. "You forget, little Weaver, that we have a pact. I have fulfilled my part. Now it''s your turn."


    "I never promised you I would steal," Valentina countered, her voice a soft hiss.


    "Oh, but you accepted my help," Vyxara replied smugly. "And now you have to pay the price."


    Valentina felt her throat tighten. She looked around nervously, but no one seemed to notice her inner struggle.


    At that moment, she saw Matilda Ravencroft, the stern librarian, step out of the door to the forbidden section. The older woman was carrying a pile of old, leather-bound books.


    "See?" whispered Vyxara excitedly. "A perfect opportunity. All you have to do is distract her and take one of the books."


    "No," Valentina repeated, but her voice sounded uncertain even to her own ears.


    "You have no choice, little Weaver," Vyxara said, now with a threatening undertone. Her presence in Valentina''s mind became oppressive, swelling ever larger. "Either you do as you promised me, or I will gain control over you. The pact binds both ways. Imagine what I could do if your body were mine."


    Valentina turned pale. She stood up with trembling hands. "All right," she whispered resignedly. "I''ll give it a try. But if I get caught..."


    "You won''t get caught," Vyxara assured her. "Not with my help."


    Valentina took a deep breath and walked slowly towards Matilda Ravencroft. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her chest that she was sure everyone in the library should be able to hear it.


    "Excuse me, Mistress Ravencroft?" she said in a shaky voice.


    The librarian turned around, her sharp eyes scrutinizing Valentina critically. "Yes? What can I do for you?"


    Valentina opened her mouth, unsure of what to say. At that moment, she felt Vyxara''s presence swell in her mind. A wave of dizziness overcame her and she stumbled slightly.


    "Oh!" Matilda Ravencroft exclaimed in surprise and grabbed Valentina''s arm to support her. As she moved, one of the books fell out of her pile and landed on the floor with a thud.


    "Now!" urged Vyxara.


    With a mixture of fear and determination not to be caught, Valentina quickly reached for the fallen book. She felt the rough leather under her fingers, saw the strange symbols on the cover.


    "Are you all right?" asked Matilda Ravencroft anxiously.


    Valentina nodded hastily. "Yes, yes, I''m just a bit dizzy. Studied too much, I think." She handed the book back to the librarian, or at least that''s what she thought. In fact, she was now holding another book in her hand, one from her own pile.


    Matilda Ravencroft took the book without noticing the difference. "Perhaps you should take a break," she said sternly, but not unkindly. "The library will be closing soon anyway."


    Valentina nodded again, unable to speak. She felt the weight of the stolen book in her pocket, a heavy, accusing weight.


    "Well done, little Weaver," Vyxara praised as Valentina hurriedly left the library. "You''re a quick learner."


    Outside in the cool evening air, Valentina leaned against a wall, her heart still racing. What if this had gone wrong? With shaking knees, she made her way to her room.


    ~


    Valentina lay in her narrow bed, unable to sleep. The moonlight fell through the small window, casting ghostly shadows on the walls of her attic room. In the distance, she could hear the soft chiming of the bells in the Burning Tower, a steady rhythm that marked the passing hours.


    The stolen book lay on her chest, hidden under her blanket. She could feel the strange symbols on the cover through the fabric, as if they were burning into her skin.


    "You should open it," Vyxara whispered enticingly. "The knowledge inside could help you solve all your problems."


    Valentina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I don''t even know what kind of book it is," she murmured quietly.


    "It''s a key," Vyxara replied. "A key to power and knowledge."


    Valentina turned onto her side, clutching the book tightly. Her head was buzzing with the events of the day. What a surreal day. She had summoned a demon, used forbidden knowledge and now she even had stolen.


    "I can''t do this," she whispered into the darkness. "I should take the book back and find a way to get rid of you."


    Vyxara''s laughter echoed through her mind. "Oh, little Weaver. It is too late. You chose this path, and now you must finish it."


    Valentina felt tears stinging her eyes. She thought of her family, of the debts that weighed on them. Of the hopes and expectations they had placed in her. She thought of the Martyr. How could she disappoint them?


    But then she also thought of the power that Vyxara had shown her. Of the possibilities that were now open to her. With this knowledge, perhaps she could really make a difference, help her family and make her dreams come true.


    "But at what price?" she asked herself quietly.


    "Every great achievement has its price," Vyxara replied gently. "The question is, are you willing to pay it?"


    Valentina stared at the ceiling, watching the dancing shadows. She thought of Professor Horne and his lecture, of the complex Essence patterns she had woven so effortlessly with Vyxara''s help. She thought of Faustus and the other rich students to whom everything flowed so effortlessly. And she thought of the Greystone Competition, of the possibility of changing everything.


    Slowly, she sat up, the book still in her hands. With trembling fingers, she opened the cover. The smell of old parchment and strange herbs immediately wafted towards her. The pages were covered with complicated diagrams and texts in a language she didn''t know.


    "See?" whispered Vyxara excitedly. "So much to learn, so much to discover."


    Valentina ran her fingers over the pages, sensing the power that lay dormant in the words and symbols. A mixture of fear and excitement flowed through her.


    "I don''t know if I can do it," she said quietly.


    "You can," Vyxara replied firmly. "We are bound together. I have measured your mind. You have potential. You have the skills and the will. All you need is the courage to take the next step."


    Valentina closed the book and placed it carefully on her bedside table. She knew that she had chosen a dangerous path. But perhaps, she thought, it was the only way to achieve her goals.


    "All right," she finally said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I''ll give it a try. But we''ll do it my way. No more wild thefts, no more blatant rule-breaking. We have to be careful."


    She felt Vyxara''s satisfaction like a warm wave in her mind. "As you wish, little Weaver. We will be careful. But remember, great power sometimes requires... unconventional methods."


    Valentina nodded slowly. She knew she had made a pact with a dangerous¡­ thing. But perhaps, she thought, she could use the situation to her advantage. Perhaps she could use Vyxara''s knowledge and power to achieve her own goals without losing herself.


    When she finally fell into a restless sleep, images of complex Essence patterns and strange symbols danced before her eyes. And in the depths of her mind, Vyxara lurked, waiting and watching, ready to guide her along her chosen path ¨C wherever it might lead her.

 Chapter 11 - Whispers in the Mind

    The first rays of the morning sun filtered through the small skylight into Valentina''s room and danced across her face. She slowly opened her eyes, blinked against the bright light and stretched with pleasure. For a brief, blissful moment, everything was as it had always been.


    Then the realization hit her like a blow.


    "Good morning, little Weaver," Vyxara''s voice rang in her head, velvety and amused. "Did you sleep well?"


    Valentina froze, her heart racing. So, it hadn''t been a dream. The demon was still there, in her head, an uninvited guest in her thoughts.


    "Oh Martyr," she whispered, cupping her hands to her face.


    "Now, now," Vyxara said placatingly. "It''s not as bad as you think. In fact, I think we might be at the beginning of something wonderful."


    Valentina lowered her hands and stared at the ceiling. The familiar cracks in the plaster seemed to accuse her. "Wonderful? I have summoned a demon. I have stolen. I betrayed everything I believe in."


    "You showed courage," corrected Vyxara. "You took the initiative to take your fate into your own hands. That''s admirable."


    Valentina snorted in disbelief. "Admirable? It was stupid and dangerous."


    She swung her legs out of bed and shivered as her bare feet touched the cold wooden floor. Outside, she heard the first birds chirping, a strangely normal sound in her now so changed world.


    "Danger and opportunity often go hand in hand," Vyxara mused. "Just think of all the possibilities that are opening up to you now."


    Valentina went to the washbasin and splashed cold water on her face. When she looked up, her reflection was staring at her reproachfully. "What possibilities? The possibility of being caught by the Illumination and burned at the stake?"


    "Oh, little Weaver," Vyxara laughed, "you think far too small. With my help, you could become the greatest Essence Weaver this world has ever seen. You could perform miracles like a saint."


    Valentina shook her head as she dried herself off. "I don''t want to perform miracles. I just want to get my family out of debt and become a good Essence Weaver."


    "And that''s exactly what I can help you with," Vyxara said gently. "Think about yesterday. With my support, you mastered an Essence pattern that was far beyond your capabilities. Imagine what else we could achieve."


    Valentina hesitated. The memory of her success in Professor Horne''s class made her heart beat faster. It had felt so good, so... right. Like she had finally unlocked her true potential.


    She shook her head to dispel the thought. "No. It was wrong. I cheated."


    "No, you''ve used your resources at hand wisely," Vyxara argued. "Is it fair that rich students like that fat sack of flour Faustus Boarfend have access to the best tutors and unlimited amounts of Distilled Essence while you have to make do with scraps? You''re just leveling the playing field."


    Valentina bit her lip. The demon had a point. Was it really so reprehensible for her to get a little... help?


    Valentina closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She had to keep a clear head. She had to appear normal today and not make anyone suspicious.


    "You think too much, little Weaver," Vyxara said gently. "Just relax. Let''s see this as an opportunity, not a threat. Who knows what we might discover and learn?"


    Valentina took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders. Maybe the demon was right. Maybe she could make the best of this situation. She would need to be careful, yes. But maybe she could at the same time be open to the possibilities that now presented themselves.


    With one last look in the mirror, she opened the door and went down to the courtyard. Valentina slipped out of her room before most of the other students had even got up. The cool morning air made her shiver as she hurried across the dewy lawn of the courtyard.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Where to so early, little Weaver?" Vyxara asked curiously.


    "To the Great Library," Valentina murmured quietly. "I need to look something up before class starts."


    "Thirst for knowledge," Vyxara purred with satisfaction. "A laudable quality."


    The main library was almost empty at this time of day. Only a few overzealous students and a sleepy-looking librarian were to be seen. Valentina meandered through the high bookshelves, searching for a particular work on advanced Essence theory.


    "Three shelves to the left, top shelf," Vyxara suddenly whispered.


    Valentina winced. "How do you know that?"


    "I see through your eyes, little Weaver. And I have an excellent memory."


    With a suppressed sigh, Valentina followed the instructions and actually found the book she was looking for. She sat down at a secluded table and immersed herself in the complex diagrams and formulas.


    Time flew by and soon the bells rang for the start of lessons. Valentina hastily packed up her things and hurried to Professor Emberfell''s lecture hall for Applied Essence Manipulation.


    With a soft click, the door closed behind Valentina, and she let herself sink into her chair with one last deep breath. The lecture hall for Applied Essence Manipulation was, as always, filled to capacity. Professor Emberfell stood before them, her piercing eyes sparkling as she slowly took her seat at her desk.


    "Essence," Emberfell began in her calm but insistent tone, which silenced everyone in the room, "is not a force that exists randomly in the world. It follows patterns, laws. Sometimes, however, if you look closely, it breaks these rules ¨C and it is in these moments that the greatest potential lies."


    Valentina let the words sink in. She felt the familiar tug inside her grow stronger ¨C the mixture of curiosity and fear that filled her every time she pondered the secret depths of Essence Weaving. Emberfell stepped up to the board and began to draw intricate diagrams with vigorous movements. Lines, circles, and intricate symbols filled the surface, their meaning becoming more and more elusive as Emberfell went on.


    "In this example," she continued, "we have the Essence currents in a stable state." She pointed to the diagram, which appeared clean and symmetrical. "But what happens if we add a factor that doesn''t fit the equilibrium? If we introduce a variable that destabilizes the pattern?"


    She turned suddenly, her eyes flashing as she surveyed the room. Valentina could feel the unease in the room growing. No one wanted to answer the question. She knew Emberfell would not expect the answer lightly. There would be no easy solution.


    The professor let her gaze wander around the room until she turned it to Valentina. "Valentina," she said in a calm voice, but the sharpness in it was unmistakable, "what would be the result if we introduced an unpredictable variable into this system?"


    Valentina felt her heart beat faster. She blinked and looked at the board. The lines and patterns began to blur before her eyes as her mind frantically tried to find an answer. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words stuck in her throat. Her mind was blank. No memory of a theory, or a formula came to her help.


    And then suddenly there was the soft, seductive voice of Vyxara.


    "I can help you, Valentina. The answer lies in the deep currents of Essence. You know that I know. All you have to do is ask."


    Valentina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew it was wrong. She should rely on her own intuition, her own abilities. But Emberfell''s gaze burned into her, and the silence in the room became unbearable. It was only a second that had passed, but it felt like an eternity to Valentina.


    "Tell me the answer," she finally whispered in her mind.


    Vyxara giggled softly. "Of course, my dear. But nothing is free. You would have to do something for me."


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten.


    "Faustus Boarfend," Vyxara continued without hesitation. "A little stumble. Nothing more. Let him stumble at the right moment, and I''ll give you everything you need."


    Valentina opened her eyes, her gaze fixed on the table, but a storm was raging inside. She knew Faustus would deserve it ¨C he had humiliated and laughed at her so many times, but this was different. It was a conscious decision to hurt him.


    "You don''t have much time, Valentina," urged Vyxara. "Emberfell won''t wait forever."


    Valentina felt the space around her shrink as the silence grew more oppressive. Then, to Vyxara''s palpable satisfaction, she nodded imperceptibly and spoke in a calm voice, repeating what Vyxara fed her, "The unpredictable variable would destabilize the system, leaving the Essence streams in a chaotic state. It would be necessary to find a new balance, but this could cause a significant change and perhaps even improvement to the original structure."


    Emberfell raised an eyebrow and nodded slowly. "Very good, Valentina," she said, and an almost imperceptible smile flitted across her lips. "That''s the right answer."


    The knot in Valentina''s chest loosened, but only for a moment. Because she knew that she still had to pay something in return.


    After the end of the lecture, she stood up with a deep breath and left the lecture hall. She saw Faustus walking down the corridor in front of her, surrounded by his admirers. With a soft sigh, she concentrated and wove a subtle pattern around his feet.


    A surprised cry, followed by a roar of laughter, echoed through the corridor. Valentina walked on quickly without turning around. She could feel Vyxara''s satisfied laughter in her head as she made her way to her next lecture, her heart heavy with guilt and satisfaction at the same time.

 Chapter 12 - Voices of Temptation

    The days flew by, and Valentina found herself in a strange rhythm with Vyxara. Every morning she woke up with the demon in her head, whose comments on everything and everyone she almost expected by now.


    "Ah, another bright day in Bridgewater," Vyxara remarked sarcastically as Valentina looked out the window and saw the gray sky. "Perfect for a bit of Essence Weaving, don''t you think?"


    Valentina rolled her eyes as she got dressed. "Do you have to do that? Every morning?"


    "I''m just trying to brighten up your life a little," Vyxara replied innocently.


    During the lectures, Vyxara''s presence became more and more noticeable. While Professor Veilford lectured on the intricacies of planar geometry, the demon constantly whispered comments and additions.


    "See how he explains the Vanderlieu spiral? He leaves out the most important part. The real power is in the asymmetrical alignment of the inner rings. He intentionally leaves that out so that students in his expensive special tutorials have an advantage. Pretty enterprising for a scholar."


    Valentina tried to concentrate, but Vyxara''s words were tempting. "Can you explain that to me later?" she whispered softly.


    "Of course, my dear. But as always, everything has its price."


    And so the little deals began. For every piece of knowledge that Vyxara shared, the demon demanded something in return. Sometimes it was a harmless distraction during an exam, sometimes a little prank against an annoying classmate.


    One afternoon, Vyxara helped Valentina solve a particularly tricky homework assignment for Professor Emberfell''s class.


    "You see, if you combine the Leb-Essence here with the Viur-Essence, the effect increases exponentially," Vyxara explained.


    Valentina nodded, impressed. "That''s brilliant. How do you know all this?"


    "Oh, I have my sources," Vyxara replied mysteriously. "But remember, you owe me something for this information."


    The next day, Valentina found herself secretly replacing the ink in Faustus'' pen with a harmless but embarrassing Essence-infused mixture. When his words turned into illegible blobs during the lecture, she couldn''t suppress a grin.


    "You see? A little fun never hurt anyone," commented Vyxara with satisfaction.


    But not all arrangements were so harmless. When Valentina had difficulty mastering a complicated Essence pattern, Vyxara offered to help.


    "I could show you how to do it perfectly," the demon whispered tantalizingly. "All you have to do is¡­ borrow¡­ a small book from the librarian''s back room."


    Valentina hesitated. "That''s stealing," she protested weakly.


    "No," Vyxara contradicted gently. "It''s a quest for knowledge. Isn''t that why you''re here?"


    After a long inner struggle, Valentina gave in. She sneaked into the library at night and ''borrowed'' the book. When she looked inside, she saw that it contained exactly the information she needed to better understand the complicated weaving pattern that Vyxara had offered to help her with.


    Valentina could literally feel herself starting to become more adept at Essence Weaving, developing a whole new understanding of the basics ¨C but also becoming more dependent on Vyxara''s help. She tried to reassure herself by telling herself that she was only doing what was necessary to survive and help her family.


    "You''re making progress, little Weaver," praised Vyxara after Valentina had mastered the complex Essence pattern. "And you have talent. You could outdo them all."


    Valentina smiled proudly, but a nagging feeling of guilt remained. "But is that right?" she asked quietly. "All these tricks and shortcuts?"


    "Right and wrong... ," Vyxara''s voice was soft and thoughtful. "These are concepts that exist only inside your heads. Essence itself knows no such categories. It is there to be shaped ¨C by those who have the talent, intellect and courage to understand and master it."


    These words echoed in Valentina''s mind as she made her way to a study group on a Wednesday evening. She met Crispin and Innogen in the library, both bent over their books.


    "Hey, Val," Innogen greeted her with a tired smile. "How are the preparations for Professor Emberfell''s exam going?"


    Valentina hesitated briefly. "Quite well," she replied vaguely. She could hardly tell them about Vyxara''s help.


    "Oh, come on," Vyxara teased in her head. "A little hint for your friends would be nice, wouldn''t it? In exchange for a small favor, of course..."


    Valentina shook her head slightly to dispel the thought. "Let''s get started," she said instead and sat down with her friends.


    While they studied, Valentina secretly watched her friends. Crispin was visibly struggling with a complex diagram while Innogen leafed through her book in frustration.


    "You could help them so easily," Vyxara whispered. "A little tip here, a subtle Essence manipulation there..."


    Valentina bit her lip. She wanted to help her friends, but not like this.


    After hours of studying, they finally said goodbye. On the way back to her room, Valentina was lost in thought.


    "You think too much, little Weaver," Vyxara said gently. "You have a gift. Why not use it?"


    "You always ask a price. Perhaps your price is too high for me?" Valentina murmured quietly.


    "The prize is what you make of it," Vyxara replied. "Remember why you''re here. For your family, for your future. Do you think there''s a way to achieve all this without paying any price?"


    Valentina sighed deeply. She knew that Vyxara was right in a way. She was here to learn, to get better. And if that meant she sometimes had to stretch the rules a little... well, maybe that was the price of success.


    As she entered her room, her eyes fell on the letter from her family lying on her desk.The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.


    ~


    A few days later Valentina meandered through the narrow corridors of the library in search of the secluded table where she had arranged to meet Crispin and Innogen again. The soft rustling of pages and the muffled murmur of other students accompanied her steps.


    "Ah, the venerable halls of knowledge," Vyxara commented sarcastically in her head. "So much information, so little knowledge."


    Valentina, now used to Vyxara''s constant commentary, just rolled her eyes.


    "You know I can sense when you do that?" Vyxara teased her.


    "Maybe I don''t care," Valentina whispered with a slight smile.


    She found her friends in a quiet corner, surrounded by stacks of heavy tomes. Crispin chewed nervously on his quill while Innogen studied a complicated diagram, frowning.


    "Hey, you two," Valentina greeted quietly and sank into a free chair.


    Innogen looked up and smiled with relief. "Val, good that you''re here. Maybe you can help us with this Essence pattern. I just can''t figure it out."


    Valentina bent over the book and studied the intertwined lines. Thanks to Vyxara''s help over the last few days, she immediately recognized the solution.


    "Oh, that''s ridiculously simple," Vyxara snorted. "Tell her to turn the Viur-Essence 45 degrees in the third quadrant. But maybe you should explain it in a more complicated way, otherwise they''ll get suspicious."


    Valentina suppressed a grin and explained to Innogen in roundabout terms how to complete the pattern.


    Crispin''s eyes widened in admiration. "Wow, Val. It seems like you''ve really had a breakthrough lately. How do you do it?"


    A stab of guilt shot through Valentina. "Oh, you know. Lots of practice and all that."


    "Yes, ''and all that''," Vyxara giggled. "Poor boy. He''s so obviously pining over you it''s almost embarrassing. He probably thinks about you every night when he stains his sheets."


    Valentina turned fiery red and looked down quickly as Vyxara''s laughter at her reaction echoed through her head. She refocused on her notes while Crispin and Innogen started a discussion about the finer points of Leb-Essence manipulation.


    "You know," Vyxara mused, "your friend Innogen is really fascinating. So much determination, so much discipline, such social skills and just the right pedigree. I bet with a little... guidance, she could turn this whole kingdom upside down."


    "Leave her alone," Valentina thought grimly.


    "Oh, don''t worry, little Weaver. I''m completely dedicated to you. But a little healthy competition wouldn''t hurt, would it?"


    Valentina shook her head slightly to dispel Vyxara''s words. At that moment, Innogen looked up.


    "Oh, I almost forgot," she said excitedly. "It''s my 20th birthday this weekend. I thought maybe we could have a little party in my room. Just the three of us? Dad''s hoping I''ll have a big party and invite all the students from important families, but this is my day and I want anything but representative duties."


    Crispin''s face brightened. "That sounds great! What do you wish for as a gift?"


    Innogen waved them off. "Oh, you really don''t have to give me anything. Your presence is gift enough."


    "How noble," Vyxara scoffed. "Of course she''s secretly hoping you''ll give her something special, but she''s observant enough to know that you in particular can''t afford it, Valentina."


    Valentina ignored the demon and smiled warmly at Innogen. "Of course we''ll be there. And of course you''ll get something from us. Right, Crispin?"


    Crispin nodded eagerly. "Absolutely! In fact, I already have an idea..."


    As the two engaged in a lively discussion about possible gifts, Valentina felt a knot forming in her stomach. She wanted to give Innogen something special, something worthy of their friendship. But how could she do that with her limited means?


    "Oh, I could help you with that," Vyxara whispered seductively. "A little Essence-woven gift, perhaps? Something she''ll never forget."


    Valentina bit her lip. The idea was tempting, but it was always the same with Vyxara: everything had its price. She shook off the thought for the moment and concentrated on her studies again.


    The hours flew by. The scratching of quills on parchment, the soft rustling of pages being turned and the occasional whisper from her friends formed a soothing rhythm. But Valentina couldn''t shake off the gnawing guilt. Here she sat, surrounded by her best friends, hiding a secret that could change everything between them.


    As evening fell and the Essence lamps in the library began to glow brighter, they finally packed up their things.


    "That was really productive," said Innogen with satisfaction. "We should do this more often."


    Crispin nodded enthusiastically. "By all means! Val, your help was really... well, you certainly helped me a lot."


    Valentina smiled softly. "Thank you. It was a wonderful afternoon."


    They said goodbye to each other and Valentina made her way to her room. The corridors of the university were almost empty now, with only the occasional late student scurrying past. Instead of going to sleep, Valentina lit a small oil lamp and sat down at her worn desk. The flame cast flickering shadows on the walls of her small attic room.


    "Ah, an all-night practice session?" asked Vyxara, her voice full of anticipation. "How ambitious of you, little Weaver."


    Valentina ignored the sarcastic undertone and focused instead on the Essence around her. She could feel the subtle currents flowing through the room, invisible to the naked eye but clearly perceptible to her heightened senses.


    "I have to do something special for Innogen," she murmured softly. "Something that shows how much our friendship means to me."


    "How touching," Vyxara purred. "And I suppose you''d like my help with that?"


    Valentina hesitated. She knew that any help from Vyxara came at a price. But the idea of giving Innogen something truly unique...


    "All right," she finally said. "What do you suggest?"


    She felt Vyxara''s satisfaction like a warm wave in her mind. "Let''s create something really special. Something that binds the Essence in a way your professors never thought possible."


    Under Vyxara''s guidance, Valentina began to weave fine threads of Leb and Lieht essence. Her hands moved through the air in intricate patterns as she directed and shaped the energies.


    "Yes, just like that," praised Vyxara. "Now combine the Leb-Essence with a touch of Z?t. That will give the gift permanence."


    Valentina followed the instructions, marveling at the complexity of the pattern that emerged before her eyes. It was far beyond anything she had learned in her courses so far and she used surprisingly little Distilled Essence for it.


    Hours passed while she worked. The moon wandered across the sky, its light dancing on the shimmering Essence threads. Valentina could feel the sweat running down her back, her concentration stretched to the limit.


    Finally, when the first hint of dawn could be seen on the horizon, it was done. A small, exquisitely shaped flower made of pure essence floated in front of her. Its petals shimmered in soft pastel shades that were constantly changing, like waves in an invisible wind.


    "It''s beautiful," Valentina breathed, overwhelmed by her own creation.


    "Indeed," Vyxara agreed, unusually serious. "You have true talent, little Weaver. Not just anyone could have done that. Not even with my help."


    Valentina stared at the Essence flower, fascinated by its beauty, but also disturbed by the ease with which she had created something so complex.


    "Isn''t that dangerous?" she asked quietly. "Using such advanced techniques without the proper training?"


    "Dangerous?" Vyxara laughed softly. "Everything that is truly powerful harbors danger. There are Essence Weavers living in the very halls of this university who could wipe out an entire village in half an afternoon without breaking a sweat."


    Valentina swallowed hard. She couldn''t deny that it felt reassuring to be so powerful. To mold the Essence to her will, to create things that others thought impossible.


    But there was also a nagging fear. How quickly had she become accustomed to Vyxara''s presence? To the constant insightful comments, the always so incredibly useful advice, the temptations? Was she still herself, or was the demon slowly but surely changing her?


    "You think too much," Vyxara rebuked gently. "Enjoy your triumph. You have created something wonderful."


    Valentina nodded slowly. She carefully reached for the Essence flower and placed it in a small wooden box.


    As she closed the casket, her gaze fell on her reflection in the small, stained mirror on the wall. For a moment, she thought the reflection was smiling at her of its own accord.


    She blinked and the moment was over. But the uneasy feeling remained.


    "What will become of me?" she whispered, more to herself than to Vyxara.


    "Something good and great, little Weaver," the demon replied gently. "Something that will make the world a better place."


    Valentina stared into the mirror for a long time, unsure whether she should fear this future or long for it. The essence flower in the casket pulsed gently.


    Outside, a new day began at Bridgewater University. She had worked the whole night through. With a sigh, she stood up. It was time to get ready for the day.

 Chapter 13 - Friendship in Candlelight

    Valentina stood in front of the small tarnished mirror in her room, the strands of her hair still lying disorderly over her shoulders. Distant laughter drifted up to her from the lower floors, where some students were having a good time. But tonight there was only one place she wanted to be ¨C Innogen''s room, where they would celebrate Innogen''s birthday together with Crispin.


    With a deep breath, Valentina pulled the comb through her hair and tried to organize the thoughts buzzing in her head and her hair at the same time. It had been a while since she had attended such a normal, almost intimate occasion.


    "Really, Valentina? That''s the best you can do?" The voice in her head was soft, only slightly teasing. Vyxara had been interfering more often lately when she stood in front of the mirror.


    Valentina glanced in the mirror and gritted her teeth. "It''s just a simple meeting with friends," she muttered, more to herself than to the demon in her head.


    "But still¡­ you dare to appear so... plain?" Vyxara''s voice dripped with mockery. "Innogen will be radiant. Crispin will be embarrassed and insecure, pining over you as always. But you... do you really want to be the wallflower again?"


    Valentina paused, the comb faltering in her hair. She knew that Vyxara was often right with her observations. Her insecurity always crept up on her when she least needed it. The thought of being outshone by Innogen nagged at her. And Crispin ¨C well, he was always by their side, always silently admiring, but she couldn''t deny that she quite liked his attention, even if she didn''t return his infatuation.


    "You could... do a little more," Vyxara suggested. "With just a little touch of Essence, you could make the light of the patterns dance in your hair, make your eyes stand out, highlight your natural beauty. The others would look at you with completely different eyes."


    Valentina closed her eyes. She had sworn to herself that she would only follow Vyxara''s advice in extreme distress. But this was a harmless temptation. A bit of cosmetics, basically ¨C nothing anyone would find suspicious. Her fingers trembled as she thought about it.


    "You know I''m right," whispered Vyxara. "A little bit of shine. You''ve earned it."


    Valentina put the comb aside and looked at her face in the mirror. Her skin looked pale in the dim light, and the shadows under her eyes betrayed her exhaustion. She had worked far too many all-nighters recently. A light touch of Essence couldn''t hurt... could it?


    She reached for the small vial of Distilled Essence that she kept hidden in her drawer. She had to be insane to consume the sinfully expensive substance for such a vanity. Vyxara''s laughter echoed softly in her head as Valentina dripped a single drop onto her fingertips and gently stroked it over her cheeks and hair. A soft glow blossomed on her skin, barely perceptible, but just what she needed. Her eyes suddenly seemed deeper, her hair fell softer and shone and shimmered in the twilight.


    "Perfect," Vyxara said with satisfaction. "You look... seductive. But there''s still something missing."


    Valentina closed the drawer with a bang and stood up. "That''s enough," she said firmly. "I don''t need any more tricks. I don''t want to seduce anyone."


    "As you wish," Vyxara replied in a tone that carried both approval and amusement.


    Valentina ignored the words and turned to her dress. She didn''t have much choice, but Innogen had insisted that it should be a relaxed celebration. No ball gown, no etiquette ¨C just friends spending time together. Not that she even had a ballgown. Nevertheless, Valentina didn''t want to appear completely homely. She chose a dark red dress made of soft fabric that was simple but elegant and put it on. One of her best dresses. It clung easily to her figure and made her feel a little more comfortable.


    As she took one last look in the mirror, she noticed the slight smile that had sneaked on her lips. Vyxara hadn''t completely convinced her, but she was happy with what she saw. She felt good. She was ready.


    Just as she was about to turn away, a knock sounded at her door. Valentina flinched, then took a deep breath and opened it.


    There was no one there. She frowned, looked into the empty hallway and shook her head in confusion. A strange feeling crept up her spine, but she closed the door and tried to ignore it. Vyxara remained silent. Someone had probably made a mistake in the room or played a joke. Some evenings, some students behaved a bit boorishly in the dormitory when they went out drinking or crawled back home afterward.


    Valentina took a deep breath and picked up her bag. The corridor was quiet as she made her way to Innogen''s room. Her heart was beating faster, not with nervousness, but in anticipation of the evening. It had been a long time since she had simply spent time not working, just enjoying herself, and Innogen had promised that it would be a nice, relaxed evening. But deep down, she knew that with Vyxara in her head, nothing was ever really relaxed.


    Valentina pushed down the handle and entered.


    When Valentina entered Innogen''s room, she was immediately enveloped in an atmosphere of warmth and coziness. The beautiful room was bathed in soft candlelight, and the scent of freshly baked pastries and warm, spiced milk hung in the air. Innogen and Crispin sat on soft cushions on the floor, surrounded by a small selection of treats and drinks.


    "Val!" cried Innogen happily, jumping up to hug her friend. "You look gorgeous! Come and sit with us."


    Valentina smiled and sat down next to Crispin, who gave her a shy smile. She noticed how his gaze wandered briefly over her dress and lingered on the swell of her breast before he looked away, blushing.


    "Oh, how sweet," Vyxara commented amusedly. "The poor boy is completely smitten with you."


    Valentina ignored the demon and concentrated on Innogen instead. "Happy birthday," she said warmly, pulling a small, cloth-wrapped package from her pocket. "I hope you like it."


    Innogen beamed and carefully began to open the cloth. When she opened the small wooden box and saw the Essence flower, her breath caught in her throat. "Oh, Val," she breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. "This is... this is incredible!"


    The flower shimmered softly in the candlelight, its petals in constant, gentle movement. Crispin leaned forward curiously, his eyes shining with admiration. "Wow, Valentina," he said quietly. "That''s really impressive Essence Weaving. How did you do it?"


    Valentina felt the blush rise to her face. "Oh, I... I''ve been practicing a lot, I don''t know how many nights I''ve been pulling all-nighters lately," she stammered, suddenly unsure of how to explain the complexity of her creation without mentioning Vyxara''s influence.


    "Now, now," Vyxara purred. "A little white lie won''t hurt, will it?"


    Fortunately, Innogen drew attention to herself by carefully placing the flower on her bedside table. "It''s beautiful, Val. I''ll always treasure it."


    Crispin cleared his throat nervously and pulled out a small package wrapped in leather. "Um, here''s my present," he said shyly. "It''s not as spectacular as Valentina''s, but I hope you like it anyway."


    Innogen carefully opened the package to reveal a hand-bound book. When she opened it, Valentina saw that it was filled with beautiful drawings of plants and animals, each page with detailed notes about their Essence properties.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    "Oh, Crispin," Innogen said softly. "That''s wonderful. Did you do all this yourself?"


    Crispin nodded, his face red with embarrassment. "I thought it might be useful for your studies on Leb-Essence."


    "How touching," Vyxara commented dryly. "The boy really has talent. Too bad he''s wasting it like this."


    Valentina suppressed the impulse to contradict the demon. Instead, she smiled warmly at Crispin. "That''s really impressive, Crispin. Your drawings show real talent." He blushed like a ripe red apple to be praised by her like that, but he straightened up proudly.


    The next hour flew by as the three friends chatted, laughed and enjoyed the treats Innogen had prepared and even drank some thin ale Crispin had brought. But as the evening wore on, Valentina noticed a certain melancholy creeping into Innogen''s eyes.


    "Is everything all right?" she asked gently, placing a hand on her friend''s arm.


    Innogen sighed deeply. "It''s just... I got a letter from my parents today. They reminded me how important it is that I ''make the right connections'' here." She rolled her eyes. "As if my studies weren''t important enough."


    Crispin frowned. "That sounds frustrating. Don''t they understand how talented you are?"


    "Oh, they understand," Innogen said bitterly. "They see it as just another tool to improve our dynastic position. Sometimes I feel like a pawn in their great political game. Marry the right man. Have the right children. Once my time here at the university is over, I won''t be able to postpone it much longer."


    Valentina felt a pang of sympathy. "That must be hard," she said quietly. "I can''t imagine being under so much pressure."


    "Oh, but you can," Vyxara whispered. "Think of your own family, of their expectations, of the debts that weigh on them."


    Valentina swallowed hard and tried to ignore the demon''s voice. Instead, she turned to Crispin. "How are things with you? Are your parents pressuring you too?"


    Crispin shrugged his shoulders, his gaze fixed on the floor. "Not really. They... they don''t really expect much from me. I''m just the second son, you know? My older brother will inherit. I''m here because... well because I don''t belong anywhere else."


    Innogen put a hand on his arm, comforting him. "Oh, Crispin. You belong here. You''re so talented and smart. Your family should be proud of you."


    Crispin smiled weakly. "Thank you. It''s just... I feel so insecure sometimes. Like I''m not good enough to be here."


    "I understand how you feel," Valentina said quietly. "Sometimes I feel like that too. As if I don''t belong here."


    Innogen and Crispin looked at her in surprise. "But Val," Innogen said gently, "you''re one of the most talented students in our year. How can you feel insecure?"


    Valentina felt tears welling up in her eyes. She wanted so much to tell her friends the truth, to tell them about Vyxara, about the feelings of guilt and fear that plagued her. But she knew she couldn''t.


    Instead, she took a deep breath and said, "It''s just... My family has sacrificed so much for me to be here. The debt they''ve taken on... They have trouble paying it all back, and the moneylenders are relentless. Sometimes I feel like I''m being crushed under the weight of all the expectations."


    Her friends looked at her sympathetically. Innogen reached for her hand and squeezed it gently. "Oh, Val. Why didn''t you ever tell us?"


    Valentina shrugged her shoulders, unable to look her friends in the eye. "I didn''t want to burden you. You have your own problems."


    Crispin leaned forward, his eyes full of concern. "Val, we''re your friends. You can tell us anything. We''re here for you. If we can do something to help, you need to tell us!"


    Valentina smiled faintly, her heart heavy with the secret she couldn''t share. "Thank you," she said softly. "That really means a lot to me."


    Silence reigned in the room for a moment, everyone lost in their own thoughts. Then Innogen cleared her throat, pinched her eyes, and reached for the mug of ale. "More ale, anyone?" she asked with a forced smile, obviously trying to lighten the mood.


    As Innogen poured the ale, Valentina felt Vyxara stirring in her mind. "You must still be careful," the demon whispered. "They can''t know about me or you''ll end up on the pyre. You''ll never really be able to tell them everything."


    Valentina suppressed a shudder and focused on her friends'' conversation instead. The sadness hung between them only briefly, and then they laughed again at an anecdote from Crispin''s last Essence practice tutorial, and for a moment, everything felt normal.


    But as the evening drew to a close and they said goodbye, Valentina felt the weight of her secret heavier than ever. She hugged Innogen tightly and wished her a happy birthday once again. "Thank you for coming," Innogen whispered softly in her ear. "It... it means a lot to me to have you as a friend."


    Valentina smiled warmly. "Me too, Innogen."


    As she walked down the corridor, she heard Vyxara''s voice in her head. "Friends," the demon murmured thoughtfully. "How long do you think they would be your friends if they discovered the truth?"


    Valentina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She knew that Vyxara was right. No matter how much she wanted to tell the truth, she couldn''t. The consequences would be far too dire.


    She returned to her room with a heavy heart, the laughter and warmth of the evening still in her ears, but the cold sting of loneliness already in her chest. Valentina quietly closed the door behind her and leaned against it, exhausted, caught between the longing for closeness and the fear of discovery.


    "Well, that was an interesting evening," Vyxara spoke up, her voice full of sweet irony. "Your friends are really... charming."


    Valentina sighed deeply and lowered herself onto her narrow bed. "Please not now, Vyxara. I''m tired."


    "Oh, but now is the perfect time to think," the demon insisted. "Can''t you see how much you''ve changed already? How far you''ve come?"


    Valentina stared at her hands, which were still shimmering slightly from the Essence she had used on her appearance. "I don''t know if that''s a good thing," she muttered.


    She got up and went to the window, opening it a crack. The cool night air flooded in, bringing with it the smell of damp grass and distant smoke. Somewhere in the distance, the bells of the Burning Tower rang out the midnight hour.


    "Of course it is," purred Vyxara. "Look what you''ve created. The Essence flower for Innogen was a masterpiece. Your friends were impressed, weren''t they?"


    Valentina nodded slowly. "Yes, they were. But..." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "It feels wrong to deceive them. To lie to them."


    "Lies?" Vyxara sounded almost offended. "You didn''t lie to them. You just didn''t tell them everything. There''s a difference."


    Valentina turned away from the window and began to walk restlessly up and down the room. Her footsteps creaked on the cold floorboards. "But isn''t it the same? I''m hiding something important from them. Something that would make them think and behave differently if they knew. Something that has changed my whole life."


    She stopped in front of the small mirror and looked at her reflection. Was she still the same person she was two weeks ago? The dark circles under her eyes bore witness to the sleepless nights she had spent practising and studying. But there was also a new sparkle in her eyes, a hint of a self-confidence she had never had before.


    "You''ve changed, yes," Vyxara agreed. "But for the better. You''ve become stronger, more determined. Isn''t that what you wanted?"


    Valentina swallowed hard. "I wanted to be strong enough to help my family. To become a good Essence Weaver. But not as... as..."


    "Not as what?" Vyxara asked gently. "Not as successful? Not as talented? Not as admired?"


    Valentina shook her head, unable to find the right words. She went to her desk and pulled open the top drawer. Inside was the letter from her family that she had received a week ago. She took it out and read it again, her father''s words, full of hope and expectation.


    "I don''t want to disappoint them," she whispered.


    "And you won''t," Vyxara assured her. "With my help, you will exceed all their expectations. You will become a legend."


    Valentina put the letter back and closed the drawer. She took a deep breath and straightened up. "Maybe you''re right," she said slowly. "But we have to set boundaries. I can''t let you control my whole life."


    She felt Vyxara''s surprise like a wave in her mind. "Boundaries?" The demon sounded amused. "And what kind of boundaries do you have in mind, little Weaver? You had your chance to set boundaries for me after you summoned me. And you didn''t let it go completely unused. That¡¯s the very reason we are in this predicament."


    Valentina went back to the window and looked out into the night. The moon was high in the sky, its silvery light bathing the rooftops of Bridgewater in a ghostly glow. "No tampering with my friends," she said firmly. "No dangerous or illegal activities. And..." She hesitated briefly. "I want you to warn me if anything you propose is dangerous or morally questionable."


    There was silence for a moment. Then Vyxara laughed softly. "Oh, little Weaver. You really are something special. Most people would strive for unlimited power, but you... You care about morality."


    "Is that a problem?" asked Valentina.


    "Not at all," Vyxara replied gently. "It makes you interesting. And it shows you''re smart enough to recognize the real dangers. I agree to your terms... For now."


    Valentina breathed a sigh of relief. She knew this was only a small victory, but it felt like an important step. "Good," she said, "then... then we''re partners?"


    "Partners," Vyxara repeated, and Valentina could hear the satisfaction in the demon''s voice. "Yes, I think we are. Partners in a great adventure."


    Valentina nodded slowly. She knew that it wouldn''t be easy, despite Vyxara''s help. That dicey situations and difficult decisions awaited her.


    She lay down in bed, the events of the evening still circling in her mind. As she closed her eyes, she heard Vyxara''s voice one last time: "Sleep well, little Weaver. A new day full of possibilities awaits us tomorrow.

 Chapter 14 - Entangled Desires

    The next few days flew by, a whirlwind of lectures, exercises and clandestine Essence practices. Valentina found herself in a strange balance with Vyxara, the demon''s constant presence in her mind becoming almost normal.


    In Professor Veilford''s lecture on advanced planar geometry, Valentina surprised everyone, including herself, with a brilliant solution to a complex Essence pattern.


    "Impressive, Valentina," Veilford praised, his bushy eyebrows raised in surprise. "I must confess, I''ve never seen such an approach."


    "Of course not," Vyxara purred contentedly. "The mortal teachers here have no idea of the true depths of Essence."


    Valentina suppressed a smile and concentrated on her notes again, while the admiring whispers of her fellow students swelled around her.


    In the breaks between lectures, she watched Crispin look at her with a mixture of admiration and confusion. She knew her sudden improvement raised questions, but she pushed the thought aside. It was inevitable, that her improvements raised some suspicion ¨C and maybe caused some envy. But still, she had to keep an eye on that.


    The most difficult exam of the semester was coming up today: Professor Emberfell''s infamous practical test in Applied Essence Manipulation.


    When she entered the lecture hall, the tension lay over the students like a heavy blanket. Even Faustus Boarfend looked pale and nervous, his usual arrogance tempered by the prospect of the challenge ahead.


    Professor Emberfell stood at the lectern, her silver hair tied in a severe knot, her green eyes cold and calculating. "Today," she began, her voice cutting like a knife, "you will have to prove everything you have learned so far. And beyond."


    She revealed a series of complex Essence patterns on the board, each more intricate and dangerous than the last. "You have three hours," she announced, "Begin."


    Valentina stared at the patterns, her heart hammering in her chest. These were far more advanced techniques than she had ever seen before. She felt panic rising inside her.


    "Easy, little Weaver," whispered Vyxara. "Together we can do this. But it will come at a price."


    Valentina swallowed hard. "Of course. What price?" she thought, her mental voice barely more than a whisper.


    "Oh, nothing big," Vyxara replied softly. "Just a small favor. Something that will really put your skills to the test. But we''ll discuss that later. Now concentrate."


    Valentina began to weave with trembling hands. The Essence flowed through her fingers, forming complex patterns in the air in front of her. She felt Vyxara''s influence like a warm current, guiding her movements, deepening her understanding.


    The hours flew by. Around her, her classmates struggled with the tasks. She heard frustrated sighs and saw Essence patterns falling apart and being reshaped. But Valentina remained focused, her concentration unbroken.


    When Professor Emberfell finally announced the end of the exam, Valentina sank into her chair, exhausted. She looked at her work: a complex, pulsating web of interlocking Essence patterns, more beautiful and powerful than anything she had ever created before.


    Professor Emberfell walked from student to student, her face a mask of neutrality. When she reached Valentina''s work, her eyes widened almost imperceptibly. "Remarkable," she murmured, more to herself than to Valentina. "Absolutely remarkable."


    As the students left the hall, many with hanging heads and despairing expressions, Valentina felt a strange mixture of triumph and unease. She had made it, had exceeded all expectations. Although she was slightly worried about what Vyxara would want her to do in return.


    "You were brilliant," Vyxara praised as Valentina made her way out of the lecture hall. "See what we can achieve together? And this is just the beginning." Valentina nodded silently, too exhausted to give a long answer. The tension of the day, the mental and physical exhaustion of the exam, was taking its toll.


    "What did you mean by ''a favor''?" she finally asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.


    "Oh, nothing bad," Vyxara replied gently. "Just a little challenge. Something that will really put your newfound skills to the test."


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. "What exactly?"


    "There''s a certain area in the library that you should take a closer look at," Vyxara explained. "It''s not a forbidden area, but there are some really interesting tomes there. I want to have a look at them. Maybe... we even have to borrow something. We¡¯ll see when we are there."This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it


    "You mean you want me to steal something," Valentina said flatly.


    "''Steal'' is such an ugly word," Vyxara purred. "Think of it as an extended study resource. We''ll bring it back, of course... Eventually."


    Valentina sighed and rolled her eyes. "But not today," she said firmly and felt Vyxara relentingly move to the back of her consciousness and remain silent for now. She was enjoying the peace and quiet after the exhausting ordeal.


    Nevertheless, she still had more homework to do. Valentina sat down at one of the back tables in the library, away from the other students, near a high shelf that reached to the ceiling, and opened a heavy book covered in complicated diagrams and formulas.


    Valentina took a deep breath and rubbed her temples. This task was particularly complex. Stabilizing Essence streams in an unstable environment while shaping them to form a solid focal point was an exercise that demanded everything of her. The basic theory was clear but in practice... That was the problem. The math behind it, the exact understanding of the forces that influenced each other, seemed to slip through her fingers no matter how long she studied it.


    With a soft sigh, she dipped the quill into the inkwell and slowly began to write down an equation. The quiet, calming atmosphere of the library helped her to keep her focus, even as the pressure in her aching shoulders grew. She knew the task was not easy. Only the best students would be able to master it, and Valentina felt that familiar, pressing ambition throbbing inside her ¨C the need not just to be good, but to be better than the others. But at the same time, there was this uncertainty, this quiet whisper of doubt that kept gnawing at her determination.


    When she finally put the quill down after an hour and looked at her work, she felt a slight sense of relief. It wasn''t perfect but it was a step in the right direction. She leaned back in her chair, stretched her fingers, which were cramped from writing for so long, and took a deep breath. The task was not yet complete, but she had made progress. Her knees stiff from sitting for so long, she left the library and climbed up to her room. Once in her room, she flopped heavily onto her bed.


    She felt physically and mentally exhausted, but the tension in her body just wouldn''t let up. As she usually did when the stress overwhelmed her, Valentina decided to give it a helping hand. It was a small luxury, but one that she ¨C who had to share a room with at least three siblings her whole life ¨C had come to appreciate since she had been given her modest but oh-so-wonderfully own little room here in Bridgewater. She began to undress, dropping her dark red dress to the floor and crawling under the thin blanket on her narrow mattress. Her fingers routinely found their way between her thighs, tracing gentle circles over the fabric of her undergarment.


    She closed her eyes and tried to relax, to concentrate only on her body. The touch of her own skin felt good ¨C familiar and comforting at the same time. Valentina closed her eyes and let her imagination wander as her fingers slid deeper and deeper. Thoughts of what it would be like to be touched by the hands of a lover filled her mind. She imagined fingers that were not her own caressing and fondle her until she writhed in ecstasy. But then, just as Valentina began to lose herself in her fantasy, to her shock, a familiar voice broke through her immersion. "It feels so good when you touch yourself," whispered Vyxara. "I can feel your lust, your desire... It''s such an intense experience."


    Valentina froze, her cheeks burning with shame. Vyxara hadn''t said anything for hours ¨C Valentina had completely forgotten about the presence in her consciousness. "Get out," she hissed silently, trying to ignore the disturbing presence.


    Vyxara laughed softly in her head. "Oh no, little Weaver. I''m not going anywhere. On the contrary, I love being here right now." The demon''s voice seemed to caress her mind, sending shivers down her spine.


    Valentina thought about simply stopping. But her body betrayed her. She was already far too aroused, the heat between her legs demanding release. With a muttered curse, she continued, trying to block out Vyxara''s intrusive comments. Her fingers slipped under the fabric of her undergarment, caressing the damp folds beneath.


    The demon seemed to sense her determination and changed tactics. "Picture it, Valentina," Vyxara purred, painting vivid images in her mind. "A handsome nobleman, his hands roaming over your body as he takes you there on the lecture hall floor. All your classmates watching, their eyes full of desire."


    The scene was humiliating but also arousing, and Valentina felt a shiver run down her naked spine at the idea. She could feel herself getting wetter by the second, her hips beginning to move to the rhythm of her fingers.


    "Or maybe it''s Professor Horne," Vyxara continued, her voice dripping with innuendo. "He''s taking you over his desk, pounding into you while he moans your name."


    Valentina couldn''t help but imagine it ¨C the stern professor, his usually focused expression replaced by a look of raw hunger as he ravaged her. Her imagination ¨C or was it Vyxara''s? ¨C provided every detail: the rough stubble of his beard on the inside of her thighs, the heat of his breath on the side of her neck, the firm grip of his hands on her hips.


    Her fingers moved faster, circling and stroking until she was panting with desire. She could feel Vyxara''s presence growing stronger in her mind, feeding off her arousal like a feast.


    "Come for me, Valentina," Vyxara commanded in a seductive voice at the back of her mind. "I want to feel it. Just let yourself go."


    With a strangled cry, Valentina¡¯s body obeyed. Her orgasm crashed over her like a wave, more intense than any she had ever experienced before. Her body tensed with pleasure, her back arched up off the bed as ecstasy coursed through every nerve.


    A cozy fatigue overcame her almost immediately afterward, her limbs feeling heavy and satisfied. Too tired to think about what had just happened, what it meant, or the intensity of her climax, Valentina turned on her side and let the demon''s silent satisfaction lull her to sleep.


    As she drifted off, a single thought floated through her mind ¨C what would happen if Vyxara wanted more of this? She pushed the thought aside, too tired, too satisfied to dwell on such considerations. Tomorrow was a new day and for now, sleep offered a welcome escape from the complications of her life.

 Chapter 15 - Falling Leaves, Rising Flames

    Birds chirped outside Valentina''s small skylight and gently woke her up. She felt refreshed and relaxed, she had slept better than she had for a long time.


    Then she began to remember.


    "Good morning, little Weaver," Vyxara''s voice purred in her head, her voice full of innuendo. The memories of last night flooded her. The intense pleasure, the overwhelming ecstasy, and Vyxara''s presence during it all.


    "Oh Martyr," she whispered, hiding her face in her hands.


    "There is nothing to be ashamed of," Vyxara said reassuringly. "Didn''t you think it was nice?"


    Valentina lowered her hands, turned around and buried her head in the pillow instead. "Nice?" she mumbled into the mattress. "I have a demon in my head that... Who..." She couldn''t even finish the sentence.


    "Who helped you have one of the most intense experiences of your life so far," Vyxara added softly. "That''s not a bad thing, is it?"


    "It was wrong," Valentina murmured. "I shouldn''t have... we shouldn''t have..."


    "Oh, little Weaver," Vyxara laughed softly. "You make everything far too complicated. It was a natural expression of your needs and desires. I was just helping you explore them."


    Valentina went to her mirror and started to get dressed. In the reflection, she could see how angry she looked. "You manipulated me," she said accusingly.


    "Did I?" asked Vyxara innocently. "I merely made suggestions to you. The decision to follow them was entirely yours."


    Valentina shook her head as she put on her undergarment. "You know very well that I wasn''t thinking clearly at that moment. You took advantage of my weakness."


    "Your weakness?" Vyxara repeated thoughtfully. "Or perhaps your strength? The ability to let yourself go, to surrender to your lust ¨C that''s not a weakness, Valentina."


    Valentina hesitated. The memory of the intensity of her experience made her heart beat faster. It had felt so good, so... right. As if she had finally released something inside her that had always been there.


    She shook her head to dispel the thought. "No. It was wrong. The Church of the Martyr..."


    "¡­shouldn¡¯t dictate what happens between your thighs, in my opinion," Vyxara interrupted her. "Imagine what else we could explore together. The depths of pleasure, the heights of ecstasy..."


    Valentina already felt a pleasurable tugging in her abdomen again. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to keep a clear head. "No," she said firmly. "That won''t happen again. We need to concentrate on more important things. On my studies, on the competition, on my family."


    She felt Vyxara''s disappointment like a cold wave in her consciousness. "Whatever you say," the demon finally said. "But remember, little Weaver: repressed desires have a habit of breaking through in other ways."


    Valentina ignored the warning and continued getting dressed. She chose a high-necked dress, as if it would protect her from Vyxara''s influence. "What does that mean for us now?" she finally asked quietly as she tied her hair into a tight knot.


    "For us?" Vyxara repeated, amused. "Oh, I think it means that we know each other even better than before. That we have a deeper connection."


    Valentina snorted in disbelief. "A deeper connection? You took advantage of me!"


    "I helped you get to know yourself better," Vyxara corrected gently. "And I think you''ve learned a lot about yourself, haven''t you?"


    Valentina remained silent. She couldn''t deny that the experience and the fantasies... had been insightful. Terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.


    "See it as another step in your development," Vyxara continued. "The better you know yourself, the stronger you become. Body, mind and Essence are closely connected."


    Valentina sat down on her bed and stared out of the window. "I don''t understand it," she finally admitted. "I feel so... confused."


    "That''s normal," said Vyxara gently. "You''re on the threshold of something new and unknown. It''s natural for you to be scared. But remember: I am with you. I will guide and protect you."


    Valentina laughed bitterly. "Protect me? From whom? From yourself?"


    "From the consequences of your own decisions, if necessary," Vyxara replied sternly. "I may be a demon, but I am also your ally. We''re in this boat together, little Weaver. That boat being you in this case."


    Valentina was silent for a long time. She knew that Vyxara was right in a way. They were connected, whether she liked it or not. And maybe... maybe she could use this connection to her advantage.


    "All right," she finally said quietly. "But there need to be boundaries. You can''t just... do something like this whenever you want."


    She sensed Vyxara''s satisfaction in her consciousness. "Of course," the demon agreed. "Let''s define those boundaries together. After all, a partnership is based on mutual respect and understanding."


    Valentina nodded slowly. She knew she was taking a dangerous path. But she had to come to terms with the demon in her consciousness somehow. And, Valentina admitted to herself, Vyxara was right: it had been nice.


    With one last deep breath, she stood up. "Let''s go," she said quietly. "We have a lot to do."


    Valentina left her room with mixed feelings. The previous night''s events and her conversation with Vyxara left her confused and pensive. She needed a distraction and some fresh air to organize her thoughts.


    As she hurried through the corridors of the student residence, she came across several fellow students. Some greeted her in a friendly manner, others were absorbed in their own thoughts. Valentina wondered if anyone could have guessed what was going on inside her.


    She had a quick breakfast in the dining hall before going back outside to the university courtyard. She took a deep breath of the cold air and felt the tension in her shoulders ease a little. The campus was bathed in autumnal colors, and the rustling and crunching of the leaves beneath her feet was soothing.


    As she wandered around thinking about what task she should tackle next, her thoughts drifted to her family as they often did. She thought about her studies, the upcoming competition and all the challenges that still lay ahead of her.


    Suddenly she heard a familiar voice calling her name. She looked up and saw Innogen coming towards her. A smile flitted across Valentina''s face. Perhaps a conversation with a good friend was just the distraction she needed right now.


    "Innogen!" she called back and walked towards her friend. "How nice to see you. Do you fancy a walk?"


    Innogen nodded with a smile. "Gladly! I wanted to get some fresh air anyway. Let''s explore the gardens."


    ~


    Autumn had bathed the gardens of Bridgewater in a sea of gold and red. Valentina and Innogen strolled side by side along a winding path lined with ancient trees. Their footsteps crunched softly on the carpet of fallen leaves.


    "It''s beautiful here," Valentina said quietly, her gaze fixed on the colorful treetops. "Almost like a fairy tale."If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    "Ah, the beauty of dying nature," Vyxara whispered in Valentina''s mind.


    Innogen smiled gently. "Yes, it is. Sometimes I forget how nice it is here when I''m not immersed in all our duties."


    Valentina looked at her friend from the side. They hadn''t really had the chance to speak since Innogen''s birthday party, just the two of them as friends ¨C and Vyxara, of course. "Innogen," she began carefully, "I know we only spoke about this briefly on your birthday, but... the pressure your family is putting on you seems to be really weighing on you. Would you like to talk about it?"


    "Good, little Weaver," praised Vyxara. "This information may prove useful."


    Innogen sighed deeply and stopped. She turned to a small pond whose surface was covered in colorful leaves. "It''s complicated, Val. You know I come from one of the realm''s leading noble families. That comes with... Obligations."


    Valentina nodded in understanding. "What kind of obligations?"


    "Well," Innogen hesitated briefly, "the most important thing is probably the continuation of the dynasty. I am expected to enter an advantageous marriage and bear children. Preferably sons to ensure the succession."


    "The eternal lament of mortals," Vyxara commented. "Always worrying about who will inherit their little sandcastle."


    Valentina suppressed a grin at Vyxara''s remark and focused on Innogen again. "But you''re here to become an Essence Weaver. Surely your parents understand how important that is to you?"


    Innogen laughed bitterly. "Oh, they understand. After all, they allowed me to go through the training before I get married. Besides, they see it as a useful step to make me even more attractive to potential husbands. A noble lady with the gift of Essence Weaving is a desirable match. Who knows, maybe my children could have the gift too? It raises my price on the marriage market."


    "Your price? Oh Innogen, that sounds horrible," whispered Valentina.


    "Horrible, yes," Vyxara agreed. "But also, an opportunity your friend could easily capitalize on, little Weaver. Power can take many forms."


    Valentina shook her head slightly to dispel Vyxara''s words. "But what about you? What do you want?" she asked Innogen gently.


    Innogen was silent for a moment, staring at the pond. A gentle breeze made the leaves dance on the surface. "I want to see the world," she finally said quietly. "I want to use my abilities as an Essence Weaver to help others. I dream of traveling through foreign lands, learning about new cultures, maybe even discovering completely new forms of Essence Weaving." Her eyes lit up at these words, but then her gaze darkened again. "But that''s just a dream. The reality is different. I''ll spend my life on my husband''s estates, spreading my legs for him and giving birth to lots of children. And probably die of boredom," she said with bitterness in her voice.


    "Who would have thought there was so much bitterness in her," Vyxara whispered. "Perhaps you should help her hold on to her dreams, little Weaver. They can shape reality if you have the courage to follow them."


    Valentina gently placed a hand on her friend''s arm, encouraged by Vyxara''s words. "I''m sorry, Innogen. I had no idea how... I always imagined how nice it must be to be from a noble family and not have to worry about anything. I didn''t know what it was like. You shouldn''t lose hope. Maybe there is a way to make your dreams come true after all."


    Innogen smiled faintly. "Thank you, Val. It''s good to talk about it. You know, my father has already compiled a list of potential husbands."


    "Really?" Valentina was shocked. "Who?"


    Innogen counted off on her fingers: "There is Lord Tristan Whitehall, the younger son of the Duke of Edhel. A charming man, they say, but also a notorious womanizer. He has had more women than a grocer has coins in his pouch. He is said to have fathered three bastards already. He''s almost ten years older than me. Then there''s Lord Quentin Farnsworth, the heir to the March of Coldby, a tough fighter but as dry as a stale loaf of bread. I''d be bored to death." She rolled her eyes. "And finally... well, you even know him."


    Valentina raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Who?"


    "Lorenzo Greystone."


    "What?" Valentina gasped. "The third-year student?"


    "Interesting," murmured Vyxara. "The threads of power are closely interwoven in your little world."


    Innogen nodded grimly. "Exactly. And my cousin. His father, the Duke of Duskenshire, is my father''s brother-in-law. They think it would be a perfect match."


    Valentina shook her head in disbelief. "I mean, he''s certainly not ugly, on the contrary...but what about love? Shouldn''t you marry someone you love?"


    Innogen laughed, but it sounded bitter. "Love, Val? In our circles, love is a luxury that only very few can afford. Marriages are made for political and strategic reasons, not romantic ones. I don''t know anyone who married for love, not even my parents."


    Valentina looked at her gloomily. "That sounds so... constricting," she said quietly.


    They walked on, both lost in thought. Valentina tried to put herself in Innogen''s shoes, but it was difficult. In her simple yeoman family, the idea of an arranged marriage was basically unheard of. If everyone was poor, you usually didn¡¯t marry for money.


    "How... how is it with Lorenzo?" Valentina finally asked hesitantly. "I mean, you know each other. Maybe it wouldn''t be so bad if..."


    Innogen shook her head. "Lorenzo''s a nice guy, really. But... I just don''t feel anything for him. And besides..." She broke off, blushing slightly.


    Valentina noticed her friend''s sudden embarrassment. "What is it, Innogen? You can tell me anything, you know that."


    "Yes, let her talk," Vyxara urged gently.


    Innogen sighed deeply. "It''s just... I''m twenty years old, Val. I''m here at the university, surrounded by so many interesting people. I want to... I want to have experiences, you know? But as a noble daughter, I''m expected to keep my maidenhood. It''s like putting me in a gilded cage."


    "Oh, how right she is!" sighed Vyxara. "So much to discover, so much to experience. Encourage her, little Weaver. Your lives are too short for this nonsensical restraint."


    Valentina felt her own cheeks redden, both because of Innogen''s candor and because of Vyxara''s comment. "I... I think I understand," she said quietly. "It''s much the same in the country. The church preaches chastity, and a girl who gets involved with a man before marriage is considered depraved."


    Innogen nodded seriously. "Exactly. But isn''t it unfair? The young men can do what they like. For them, it''s even a sign of masculinity to make lots of conquests. Many a father brings his son personally to a... well, you know, so that he can gain experience. But us women? We''re supposed to remain pure and untouched, like flowers under a bell jar. It''s bullshit!"


    "That''s really unfair," Valentina agreed. She hesitated for a moment, then asked quietly: "Have you... have you ever...?"


    "Brave question, little Weaver," praised Vyxara. "True friendship knows no small-minded taboos."


    Innogen shook her head. "No. Not really. A few kisses here and there, but nothing serious. And you?"


    Valentina blushed even deeper. Before she came to Bridgewater and got her own little room at the university, she hadn''t even really dared to touch herself. "Me neither. But... I''m curious, you know? I want to know what it feels like... to be loved." Embarrassed, she lowered her eyes. She thought of the night when she... and of what Vyxara had whispered to her, what she had imagined, and how that had made her feel.


    "Ah, little Weaver, I am touched by your fond memories of our little experience," Vyxara whispered almost tenderly. "Do not worry. I will keep our secret."


    Innogen smiled sympathetically and squeezed Valentina¡¯s hand tightly. "I know exactly what you mean. Sometimes... sometimes I imagine what it would be like to just run away. To fall in love with someone who wants me¡­ for myself, not for my title or my name."


    "That sounds wonderful," whispered Valentina, equally touched by Vyxara''s words and Innogen''s dreams.


    They walked side by side in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. The autumn sun bathed everything in a warm, golden light, and the wind carried with it the scent of damp leaves and distant smoke.


    "You know," Innogen finally said, "sometimes I envy you, Val."


    Valentina looked at her in surprise. "Me? But why? You have everything I can only dream of. A noble family, wealth, influence..."


    "Oh, little Weaver," sighed Vyxara. "Wealth and power aren''t everything. She envies you your freedom."


    Innogen shook her head gently. "Yes, I have that. But you have freedom, Val. You can make your own choices, go your own way. If you fall in love, you can follow that love, if you want to tumble in the hay with a handsome man, you can just do that without having to think of the consequences for an entire dynasty."


    Valentina was silent for a moment. She thought of her family, of the debts they had incurred to enable her to study. Of the expectations that weighed on her shoulders. And, of course, Vyxara, the secret she couldn''t share with anyone. "I don''t know if I''m really as free as you think I am," she said quietly. "But I understand what you mean."


    They reached a small stone bench at the edge of the garden and sat down. From here, they had a wonderful view over the rooftops of Bridgewater to the Burning Tower, which rose majestically into the sky.


    "You know what?" said Innogen suddenly, her eyes sparkling with determination. "Let''s make a pact."


    "A pact?" Valentina asked curiously.


    "Interesting," Vyxara murmured. "Pacts can be powerful, little Weaver. But you know that by now. Choose your words carefully."


    Innogen nodded. "Yes. Let''s promise that no matter what happens, we''ll always be friends to each other. That we will support each other no matter what path life has in store for us. And that we won''t let ourselves be limited by the expectations of others but find our own way."


    Valentina felt a warm feeling spread through her chest. She took Innogen''s hand and squeezed it tightly. "I promise," she said solemnly. "No matter what, we''ll stick together."


    Vyxara refrained from commenting on this occasion, but Valentina could clearly sense the demon''s satisfaction in the back of her mind.


    Innogen smiled, and for the first time that day, the smile reached her eyes. "Thank you, Val. You really are a true friend. I''m so glad we found each other here in Bridgewater!"


    They sat there for a while longer, hand in hand, watching the sun slowly set. The shadows lengthened, and a chill wind came up, reminding them that winter was not far away.


    "We should go back," Innogen finally said reluctantly. "Lunch will be served soon."


    Valentina nodded, but as they stood up, Innogen held her back once more and hugged Valentina tightly. "Thank you, Val," she whispered, "our friendship means more to me than you know."


    Together, they entered the dining room, where other students were already gathered for lunch. They stood still for a moment, both unwilling to let this intimate moment of friendship end.


    "To us," Innogen said quietly, a mischievous smile on her lips. "To two young women who will conquer the world."


    Valentina laughed softly. "Here''s to us," she agreed. "And to all the adventures that lie ahead of us."


    "A promising start, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered. "Use this connection wisely. It may prove more valuable than you realize."

 Chapter 16 - Forbidden Patterns

    Lunch was drawing to a close, and the dining room of Bridgewater was beginning to empty. Valentina and Innogen sat for a moment longer. Their plates were already empty, but they were reluctant to part ways.


    "I have to go," Innogen finally said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "Professor Veilford''s tutorial on advanced planar geometry is waiting for me. I''ll see you later?"


    Valentina nodded with a smile. "Of course. Have fun with the triangles," she joked.


    As Innogen hurried away laughing, her long blonde hair swinging behind her, Valentina stood up as well. She made her way to the Tower of Healing, where Professor Gwendolyn Whitehall''s lecture on Essence-enhanced medicine would take place.


    The Tower of Healing was one of the oldest buildings on campus, its walls overgrown with ivy and its windows narrow and tall. The university had once evolved from a place where Essence Weavers healed and nurtured the people of Bridgewater with their scholarly art. Valentina climbed the winding staircase, past niches with stuffed exotic animals and shelves full of mysterious bottles and herbs.


    The lecture hall was already full when Valentina entered. She found a seat in the third row, next to a red-haired girl she knew from her Ethics Lecture.


    "Hi," whispered the girl ¨C Rosalie, if Valentina remembered correctly. "It¡¯s so exciting, isn¡¯t it? I''ve heard that Professor Whitehall wants to show us something very special today."


    Before Valentina could answer, the door at the end of the hall opened and Professor Whitehall entered. The conversations fell silent immediately.


    Despite her small size, Gwendolyn Whitehall was an impressive figure. Small, with friendly curves and a slightly tousled crown of gray hair that lay around her head like a halo, and warm hazel eyes. Her practically cut emerald green dress, covered in stains, rustled softly as she walked to the lectern.


    "Good afternoon, students," she said in a gentle voice. "Today we''re going to look at a fascinating aspect of Essence Weaving that also plays an important role in Essence-enhanced Medicine: the Amplifying Incantations in Altothal."


    An excited murmur went through the room. Altothal, the ancient language of the first Essence Weavers, was famous for its powerful formulations and complexity. Many Essence Weavers used to say: If you can''t say it in Altothal, you can''t even think it.


    Professor Whitehall raised her hand and silence fell immediately. "As you all know, the right incantation in Altothal can greatly enhance the effects of an Essence Weaving. Today we are going to take a closer look at some of these Incantations and explore their application in the healing arts."


    "Take, for example, the incantation ''Berstanes Bein, binden gebuewet, gebrestenen Gliedern, baldan gebettet''" she continued. "This is a type of incantation the Altothal call a ''staff rhyme'' and they''re especially powerful. When combined correctly with a healing Essence Weaving, it can accelerate the regeneration of bone tissue significantly."


    Valentina listened intently, but part of her wondered why a natural power like Essence would even respond to a random language like Altothal. It seemed kind of... arbitrary.


    Listening to her thoughts, Vyxara spoke up. "You''re asking just the right questions there, little Weaver," purred the demon. "But the answer may not be what you expect."


    Valentina tried to concentrate on the lecture, but Vyxara''s words had aroused her curiosity. "What do you mean?" she thought.


    "The truth is," Vyxara explained, "it''s not really about Altothal at all. In reality, it could be any sound. There are amplifying incantations that no one has ever found because they aren''t intelligible words in any known language."


    Valentina frowned. "But then why do the Altothal incantations work so well?"


    "You keep asking the right questions," Vyxara praised. "You see, the sounds and incantations are used to encode parameters and boundary conditions for the scalar field operators."


    Valentina blinked in confusion. "I don''t understand a word you''re saying."


    Vyxara laughed softly. "Of course not, little Weaver. Let me put it another way: think of Essence as a large, complex carpet. The incantations are like a pattern that you weave into this carpet. The more precise and fitting the pattern, the stronger your Weaving becomes."


    Intrigued by this concept, Valentina tried to focus on Professor Whitehall again. The professor was demonstrating the application of a complex Altothal incantation to a healing weaving.


    "Notice how the Essence reacts to the incantation," explained Professor Whitehall. "The color of the Weaving intensifies, a sign of its increased strength."


    Valentina watched spellbound as the pale blue of the original Weaving transformed into a deep, luminous azure. She could literally feel the power of the Essence increasing in the room.


    "You see?" whispered Vyxara. "The incantation shapes the Essence, gives it structure and direction. But it doesn''t have to be Altothal. It could be any sound, any vibration that creates the right... well, let''s call it ''patterns''."


    The rest of the lecture flew by. Valentina was so engrossed in her internal discussion with Vyxara that she barely noticed the time passing. By the time Professor Whitehall dismissed the class, her head was full of new ideas and questions.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    As the other students left the room, Valentina sat for a moment to organize her notes. She was alone in the lecture hall when Vyxara spoke again.


    "Would you like to see something special, little Weaver?" the demon asked, its voice full of suppressed excitement.


    Valentina hesitated. She knew it could be dangerous to accept Vyxara''s offers. But her curiosity was stronger. "What do you mean?"


    "I could show you two simple but useful Amplifying Incantations that no one else knows," Vyxara suggested. "Incantations that aren''t from Altothal or any other known language."


    Valentina''s heart began to beat faster. This was exactly the kind of knowledge she was looking for ¨C something that could give her an advantage in the competition, something that belonged only to her. "And what do you want for it?" she asked cautiously.


    She felt Vyxara''s smile in her mind, like a cat that had licked cream. "Oh, nothing big," the demon purred. "I just want us to repeat what we did last night."


    Valentina froze. The memories of last night flooded back. She felt her face grow hot. "I... I don''t know if this is a good idea," she stammered.


    "Come on, little Weaver," Vyxara urged gently. "You enjoyed it, I know you did. Just like me. And think of all the knowledge I can give you. Knowledge that will help you achieve your goals."


    Valentina bit her lip. She knew she should refuse Vyxara''s offer. But the thought of this secret knowledge that she couldn''t get from anyone else... "Okay," she finally whispered. "Show me."


    Vyxara''s satisfaction flowed through her like a warm wave. "Excellent," the demon said. "Now, pay attention."


    Valentina concentrated. She felt Vyxara directing her perception, focusing her attention on the subtle vibrations of the Essence around her.


    "The first incantation," explained Vyxara, "is for healing Weavings. It particularly strengthens the regeneration of nerve tissue. Listen carefully."


    And then Valentina heard it ¨C not with her ears, but somewhere deep in her mind. It was not a word, not a phrase she had ever heard before. It was a strange, vibrating sound that felt like it was running straight through her spinal cord.


    "Try it," Vyxara encouraged her.


    Hesitantly, Valentina looked for the Ambient Essence around her and wove a simple healing Leb-pattern with her hands. Then, carefully, as if speaking a foreign language for the first time, she ¡®chanted¡¯ the incantation Vyxara had shown her.


    The effect was immediately noticeable. The pale blue of her Weaving transformed into a deep, pulsating indigo. She could feel the power of the Weaving increasing, the pattern directing itself to nerve tissue, ready to heal even the most severe damage.


    "That''s... incredible," Valentina whispered breathlessly.


    "And that''s just the beginning," said Vyxara with satisfaction. "The second incantation is for protective Weavings. It creates a kind of... Resonance in the Ambient Essence around you that absorbs and disperses hostile Weavings."


    Again, Valentina "heard" the strange, non-linguistic incantation in her mind. This time it was a more complex sound, like the humming of a strange melody.


    She tried it out, formed a protective Weaving from Luvt-Essence and "sang" the new Incantation. The silvery shimmer of the Weaving condensed into a solid, opalescent shield that refracted the light in rainbow colors, visible only to other Weavers.


    Valentina gasped in astonishment. She gently traced the patterns of the Weaving with her fingers and could feel the robustness and elasticity of the shield.


    "You see?" said Vyxara proudly. "This is the true power of Essence. Not limited by the words of any language, but open to anyone who finds the right... vibrations."


    Valentina nodded slowly, her head buzzing with new possibilities. "This is... this is incredible, Vyxara. Thank you for showing me this!"


    "You''re welcome, little Weaver," purred the demon. "See you tonight."


    With these words, Vyxara fell silent and Valentina was alone again in the empty lecture hall. She took a moment to collect herself before standing up and packing her things.


    When she left the Tower of Healing, the sun had already disappeared behind the horizon. The last remnants of golden evening light bathed the campus in warm colors, and the shadows of the trees stretched long across the paths.


    Valentina walked slowly back to her dorm, her head full of new ideas and possibilities. As she entered her room, Valentina felt a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation.  She dropped her bag on the desk and lay down on her bed, exhausted. Her eyes wandered over the familiar objects in her room ¨C the piles of books on the table, the amulet her brother had given her and, of course, her two forbidden books well hidden in the cupboard behind her clothes.


    "You look thoughtful, little Weaver," Vyxara spoke up. "Are you already regretting our deal?"


    Valentina shook her head. "It''s just... everything is so overwhelming. Those incantations you showed me ¨C they''re so powerful. I wonder what else I don''t know, what else is hidden out there."


    She felt Vyxara''s satisfaction radiating in her consciousness like a warm sun. "You have no idea. The secrets of Essence are endless, deep and fascinating. And I know them all."


    Valentina turned her head to the side and looked out of the window. Outside, people were lighting the first lanterns, small islands of light in the gathering dusk.


    "Why are you helping me?" Valentina suddenly asked. "What do you have to gain from teaching me all these things?"


    Silence reigned in her mind for a moment. Then she felt Vyxara''s mental smile, like the touch of silken fingers on her mind.


    "Maybe I just enjoy your company, little Weaver," the demon said gently. "Maybe I see potential in you that you haven''t yet recognized yourself. Or maybe... maybe I have my own plans that you wouldn''t yet understand. But I know that we will spend the rest of your life together, so I want to make the best I can out of the experience."


    Valentina shuddered slightly. She knew she had to be careful, that despite all her help and knowledge, Vyxara was still a demon with its own hidden motives.


    "And now what?" she asked quietly.


    "Now," said Vyxara tenderly, "now you will fulfill your part of our agreement. And then... then you''ll lie down, close your eyes and finally get a full night''s sleep. You''ve slept far too little in the last few weeks."


    Valentina swallowed hard. She thought back to last night, to the overwhelming pleasure, how good it had felt. Part of her longed for it, wanted to experience it again. Another part was anxious, unsure.


    "I don''t know if I can do it," she whispered.


    "Oh, little Weaver," Vyxara laughed softly. "Not only can you do it, you want to. I can feel your arousal, your curiosity, your desire. Why are you fighting it?"


    Valentina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She thought of everything she had learned today, the powerful incantations that were now in her hands. And she thought of the promise of even more knowledge, even deeper insights into the secrets of Essence, of all the possibilities.


    "Okay," she finally said, her voice barely more than a breath. "Let''s get started."


    She felt Vyxara''s triumph like a wave of heat rolling through her body. "My pleasure, little Weaver. Lie back and relax. Remember the talk you had with Innogen. This is nothing to be ashamed of."


    With trembling hands, Valentina began to unbutton her dress. The cool evening air brushed against her heated skin, making her shiver. She lay on the bed, her heart beating wildly in her chest.


    And when she had finished, she fell into a deep and pleasant sleep, as content as the demon slumbering in her head.

 Chapter 17 - A Message from the Marches

    The dining room was already bustling with activity when Valentina walked in through the heavy oak doors. The familiar smell of freshly baked bread and fried bacon filled the air, but something was different this morning. There was an unusual tension in the atmosphere, which Valentina noticed immediately.


    Instead of the usual babble of voices and laughter, there was a subdued murmur. Students sat together in small groups, their heads close together as they whispered with serious expressions. Valentina felt her stomach tighten.


    "Something has happened," Vyxara whispered in her head. "Can you feel it? Their hearts are ripe with fear."


    Valentina nodded imperceptibly as she made her way through the crowd. She spotted Innogen at one of the long tables and headed towards her friend.


    "What''s wrong?" Valentina asked quietly as she sat down next to Innogen.


    Innogen shook her head, looking worried. "No one knows for sure. But there are rumors of a goblin attack in the Western Marches. They say it was bad."


    Before Valentina could answer, a loud knock sounded. All heads turned to the entrance area, where Decan Egwine Valemont stood with his hands resting on his considerable stomach, his face serious.


    "My dear students," he began, his usually strong voice now muffled and heavy. "It is my sad duty to tell you of a terrible incident that has occurred in the past few days."


    The hall fell silent instantly, only the occasional clink of a spoon or the rustling of clothes could be heard.


    "The small town of Farwinter in the Western Marches was attacked by a horde of goblins in the middle of market day and... was completely wiped out."


    A collective gasp went through the crowd. Valentina felt Innogen''s hand clutch hers.


    "According to the first reports," the Decan continued, his voice now brittle, "all the inhabitants were killed or abducted. The houses were burned to the ground, the fields devastated. It is the worst goblin attack since Millbrook just over a decade ago. Of course, our thoughts are primarily with the abducted wom-... inhabitants. The living envy the dead.


    Valentina heard some of the students start to sob. Others stared blankly in front of them, apparently unable to process what they had heard.


    "This is a dark hour for our kingdom," Valemont continued. "It shows us that the threat of these creatures never really goes away. We must remain vigilant and strengthen our borders."


    He paused and let his gaze wander over the assembled students. "I know that many of you come from the border regions. If anyone needs information about family members, please contact your professors and lecturers. The university will do everything in its power to support you."


    With these words, the Decan left the podium, followed by a silence that weighed heavier than any noise.


    Valentina turned to Innogen, whose face had gone ashen. "Your family..." she began hesitantly.


    Innogen nodded, her eyes wide. "Timberpine is only a few days'' journey from Farwinter. Oh Martyr, what if..."


    "Shh," Valentina reassured her, putting an arm around her friend, "I''m sure your family will be fine. The Marcher Lords are prepared for such attacks. A Marquess and his retinue are unlikely to fall prey to goblins."


    "How touching," Vyxara commented sarcastically. "As if a few humans in armor could do anything against a horde of hungry goblins. Without Essence Weavers, even they would be lost if the goblins were numerous enough."


    Valentina ignored the demon and concentrated on her friend instead. Chaos broke out around her. Students were jumping up, some were crying openly, others were talking wildly.


    "Come on," Valentina said gently, pulling Innogen to her feet. "Let''s go somewhere quieter. Maybe we can get news of your family."


    As she led Innogen out of the hall, Valentina felt a cold hand of fear wrap around her heart. To her, growing up in East Sommerland, goblins had always been a distant threat, a spectre from children''s stories. To the people of the Marches, however, they were a very real threat.


    "Goblins are all over Sommerland, little Weaver, not just in the west," Vyxara whispered, and Valentina could hear the perverse pleasure in the demon''s voice. "They¡¯re even hidden in the east, where they''re regularly exterminated, wherever they are met. They just don''t get numerous enough to pose that much of a threat ¨C most of the time, anyway."


    Valentina shuddered at these words as she and Innogen crossed the now silent corridors of the university, followed by the shadow of a threat that had suddenly become far too real.


    Valentina led Innogen to a corner in the university courtyard. They still had a little time before their first lecture was due to start. Students stood in the courtyard talking, their faces pale and tense.


    "Here," Valentina said gently and sat down on top of a small wall with Innogen. "Let''s take a breath."The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    Innogen nodded silently, her hands trembling slightly. They heard the excited murmur of other students.


    "Oh, how delicious their fear is," Vyxara whispered in Valentina''s head. "Just listen to them tremble and shake."


    All the students around stood together in groups and talked about the attack.


    "...say the goblins used Essence-infused weapons," she heard a boy say in a trembling voice.


    "Nonsense," replied another. "Goblins are too stupid for Essence Weaving. There were just too many of them."


    "My father always says the border troops are too weak," a girl spoke up. "He says we need more soldiers and better fortifications."


    Valentina focused on Innogen again, who was mumbling quietly to herself.


    "Timberpine is so close to the border," she whispered. "What if the goblin horde moves there next? My family..."


    Valentina put an arm around her friend. "Listen, Innogen. Your father is a Marcher Lord. He knows how to defend himself against such attacks. Timberpine is certainly much better protected than a small town like Farwinter."


    Innogen nodded slowly. "You''re probably right. It''s just... I feel so helpless here. I should be with my March and my family."


    "I understand," Valentina said gently. "But remember, the best way to help your March is to become a strong Essence Weaver."


    A faint smile flitted across Innogen''s face. "You''re right. Thank you, Val. I don''t know what I''d do without you. You always manage to keep calm."


    "How touching," Vyxara commented sarcastically. "But remember, little Weaver, that such bonds can also be weaknesses. You can never trust anyone completely. In times of need, it''s every man for himself ¨C and every woman, of course."


    Valentina ignored the demon and concentrated on the conversations around her instead. Students everywhere were excitedly discussing the threat posed by the goblins.


    "I''ve heard they can squeeze through the smallest cracks," said one girl, her eyes wide.


    "My uncle says they eat human flesh," a boy added, his voice full of disgust.


    "Rubbish," an older student spoke up. "Those are all just rumors. Goblins are primitive creatures, but they don''t eat people. They only attack because they want human women. And not to eat them, if you know what I mean."


    Valentina listened attentively while she stroked Innogen''s back reassuringly.


    "The humans and their fears," Vyxara murmured, amused. "They imagine the most terrible things without knowing the true nature of their enemies."


    "What do you mean?" thought Valentina, her curiosity piqued.


    "Oh, little Weaver," the demon purred. "Goblins are far more fascinating than these foolish mortals realize. They may seem primitive, but they are survivors, driven by an insatiable urge to be like humans ¨C in every way imaginable."


    Valentina shuddered at these words. She didn''t want to think any further about what Vyxara meant.


    "Come on," she said to Innogen instead and stood up. "We should go to class. It will do us good to take our minds off things."


    Innogen nodded and stood up as well. Together they made their way to the lecture halls, past groups of anxiously whispering students and earnest looking professors.


    ~


    Valentina and Innogen entered Professor Emberfell''s lecture hall for Applied Essence Manipulation. The room, normally filled with excitement and anticipation, was shrouded in an oppressive silence today. The students sat in their seats with their heads bowed, some whispering quietly to each other, others simply staring ahead.


    Professor Emberfell stood at the lectern, her usually stern face now streaked with worry lines. She cleared her throat to get the class''s attention.


    "Students," she began, her voice softer than usual, "I know that the events in Farwinter have shaken us all. Nevertheless, we must look forward and focus on our tasks."


    She paused and let her gaze wander over the assembled students. "Indeed, these terrible events show us how important our work as Essence Weavers is. Today, let''s talk about defensive Weavings that can protect us and our loved ones."


    Valentina felt her attention sharpen. She reached for her quill and began to eagerly take notes while Professor Emberfell drew complex protective Weavings on the blackboard.


    "Look how eager you are to learn," Vyxara whispered in her head. "You''re making real progress, little Weaver."


    Valentina felt a pang of pride, followed by a twinge of guilt. She knew that her growing abilities were partly due to Vyxara''s influence.


    The next lecture was History of Essence Weaving with Professor Baldewin Greycloak. The old professor looked even frailer than usual as he leaned on his walking stick and surveyed the class with tired eyes.


    "Ah, my young friends," he sighed. "In all my years, I have seen many dark times, but the threat of the goblins remains a constant scourge of our realm."


    He hobbled over to the blackboard and began to draw a timeline. "Today, let''s look at the history of the three great Scorchmarches against the goblins and learn how our ancestors dealt with this threat."


    While Professor Greycloak talked about long-gone battles and heroic deeds, Valentina let her gaze wander around the room. She noticed how some students flinched in fear when particularly gruesome details were mentioned. Others, like Faustus Boarfend, seemed almost enthusiastic about the war reports.


    "Look how differently they react," Vyxara commented with amusement. "Some tremble with fear, others long for glory and honor. Humans are so fascinating in their diversity."


    Valentina nodded imperceptibly. She considered History of Essence Weaving to be one of the most interesting courses. At home, in Palewood in the country, she had hardly ever heard what was happening or had happened in the wider world. Sometimes, she was ashamed of her lack of knowledge about such things, of her provinciality.


    The last lecture of the day was Ethics of Essence Weaving with Professor Lucinda Ravencroft. The normally lively discussion was muted today, with students seeming hesitant to express their opinions.


    Professor Ravencroft looked sternly around the room. "Now," she said in a sharp voice, "do you think events like the one in Farwinter absolve us of our moral responsibility as Essence Weavers?"


    A murmur went through the room. Finally, a boy spoke up: "But Professor, shouldn''t we use all the means at our disposal to defend ourselves against the goblins?"


    Ravencroft''s eyes flashed. She loved to provoke her students. "All means, you say? Even if it means going down to the level of our enemies? Where do we draw the line?"


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. She thought of the forbidden books in her room, of the knowledge Vyxara had given her. Had she already gone too far?


    "Do not doubt yourself, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered. "Power is neither good nor evil. It''s how you use it that counts."


    As she packed up her things, she noticed Professor Ravencroft watching her intently. Their eyes met for a moment, and Valentina thought she saw a mixture of concern and ¨C was it mistrust? ¨C in the professor''s eyes.


    With a slight shudder, she turned away and left the lecture hall. She had to be more careful not to reveal too much of her growing knowledge and abilities.

 Chapter 18 - Confessions

    As she walked down the corridor, on her way to her next class, she suddenly heard hurried footsteps behind her. She turned and saw Crispin coming towards her, his face a mixture of nervousness and determination.


    "Valentina," he called, slightly out of breath. "Can I have a word with you?"


    Valentina stopped and turned to Crispin. The slight young man stood before her, his cheeks flushed, his hands clutching nervously at the straps of his worn leather bag. The dim light from the Essence lamps in the corridor cast flickering shadows on his face, and for a moment, Valentina thought she saw a mixture of hope and fear in his eyes.


    "Of course, Crispin," she replied with a gentle smile. "What''s this about?"


    Crispin looked around as if to make sure no one else was within earshot. The corridor was empty, with only the distant echo of footsteps and muffled voices reaching them.


    "Can we... can we go somewhere where we can talk undisturbed?" he asked quietly.


    Valentina nodded and pointed to a small alcove at the end of the corridor, where a wooden bench stood beneath a stained glass window. They sat down and for a moment there was an awkward silence between them.


    "Oh, how adorable," Vyxara purred in Valentina''s head. "The poor boy is so nervous. I can almost taste his feelings for you."


    Valentina ignored the demon and focused instead on Crispin, who took a deep breath as if bracing himself for something difficult.


    "Valentina, I... I wanted to talk to you about the poem," he began, his voice barely more than a whisper.


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. She had hoped that this topic wouldn''t come up again. "The poem?" she asked, even though she knew exactly what he was talking about.


    Crispin nodded, his gaze fixed on his hands, which he kneaded in his lap. "Yes, that... The poem Professor Horne read in class. I''m sorry. I... I wanted to explain..."


    "Oh, Crispin," Valentina interrupted him gently. "You don''t have to apologize for that. It was a beautiful poem."


    Crispin''s head shot up, his eyes wide with surprise. "Really? You... you liked it?"


    Valentina smiled warmly. "Of course it was. It was very touching and sincere. I felt... honored that you feel that way about me."


    A hint of blush crossed Crispin''s cheeks. "I''m... I''m glad you liked it. I was so afraid you''d find it embarrassing or creepy."


    "No, not at all," Valentina assured him. "But Crispin, I have something to tell you and I hope you understand."


    Crispin''s smile faded slightly, as if he had guessed what was coming. Valentina took a deep breath and continued: "You''re a wonderful friend, Crispin. One of the best I''ve ever had. But... I see you as a friend. Not as... more."


    She saw disappointment spread through Crispin''s eyes, followed by a valiant attempt to hide it. "I... I understand," he said quietly. "I had hoped, but... I understand."


    Valentina gently placed her hand on his. "I''m sorry, Crispin. I didn''t mean to hurt you. Your friendship means so much to me and I don''t want to lose it."


    Crispin nodded slowly. "No, of course not. I''m... I''m glad we''re friends, Valentina. That won''t change, I promise."


    There was a moment of silence in which they were both lost in their thoughts. Suddenly, a loud wail echoed through the corridor, followed by excited voices. Valentina and Crispin flinched.


    "What was that?" Crispin asked in alarm.


    Valentina stood up and peered down the corridor. A group of students hurried past, their faces pale and tense. "I don''t know," she replied, "but I''m afraid it has something to do with the news this morning. The goblin attack..."


    Crispin''s face darkened. "Yes, the attack on Farwinter. It''s hard to believe something like that can still happen."


    Valentina sat down next to him again. She hadn¡¯t missed his expression. "Have you... have you ever had anything to do with goblins?" she asked cautiously.


    Crispin nodded slowly, his gaze fixed in the distance. "Yes, unfortunately. There was a raid on our village when I was a child. It wasn''t as bad as Farwinter, but... It was horrible enough."


    Valentina felt her heart tighten. "Oh Crispin, I''m so sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"


    Crispin hesitated for a moment, then began to tell the story, his voice quiet and serious. "It was a summer night, just before the harvest. I was perhaps eight years old. Suddenly there was an alarm ¨C goblins had come across the fields, a whole horde of them."


    He paused, took a deep breath. Valentina waited patiently, giving him time to gather his thoughts.


    "They came so fast," he continued. "Before we knew it, they were everywhere. I remember their screams, the disgusting stench that surrounded them. My father fought alongside the other villagers while my mother took me and my siblings to the cellar."This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.


    Valentina reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. Crispin smiled gratefully and continued.


    "We spent the whole night down there, trembling with fear. We could hear the sounds of battle, the crashing of breaking wood, the screams... My mother gave my older brother a dagger and told him that if the goblins came, she would pounce on the goblins and he should kill us with the dagger. Our sisters first. The next morning, when we finally came out, most of the village was destroyed. Many were injured, some... Some were dead or... missing."


    "That must have been terrible," whispered Valentina.


    Crispin nodded. "It was as if the world had changed overnight. Nothing was the same as before. My father... he was never the same after that night. He started drinking, became bitter. That''s one of the reasons why I''m so grateful to be here, at the university. It''s a chance to escape that shadow."


    Valentina felt tears gathering in her eyes. She had had no idea what Crispin had been through. Suddenly she understood his reserve, his shyness, in a whole different context.


    "Crispin, I... I don''t know what to say. You''re so strong, you got through it all."


    He smiled weakly. "I don''t feel strong. But I''m trying to make something of my life, to do something good. That''s why I''m here, that''s why I want to become Essence Weaver. To help others, to protect them."


    At that moment, Valentina saw Crispin with completely new eyes. No longer as the shy boy who ran after her but as a young man who, in his own way, pursued his goal just as straightforwardly as she did.


    "You''ll be a great Essence Weaver, Crispin," she said with conviction. "Your experiences, your compassion ¨C these can be strengths that many others don''t have."


    Crispin blushed slightly at her praise. "Thank you, Valentina. That means a lot to me, especially from you."


    They sat in amicable silence for a moment, both lost in thought. Then Crispin cleared his throat.


    "You know," he began hesitantly, "I''m glad we had this conversation. Not just because of the poem, but... it feels good to have told someone about what happened back then. To have someone who listens and understands. I''m glad to have you as a friend."


    Valentina smiled warmly. "I''m happy too, Crispin. You can always come to me if you want to talk. That''s what friends are for."


    They stood up, both with the feeling that something had changed between them. Not in the way Crispin might have hoped, but in a way that deepened and strengthened their friendship.


    As they walked down the corridor, Valentina felt a twinge of guilt. She had heard Crispin talk about his darkest experiences, while she herself was carrying around a huge secret that she was keeping from her friends. For a moment, she was tempted to tell him about Vyxara, about the forbidden books, about everything.


    "That would be most unwise, little Weaver," Vyxara spoke up. "Openness is a weakness you cannot afford. Concentrate on your goals."


    Valentina shook her head slightly to dispel the demon''s voice. She knew Vyxara was right, even if she didn''t like it. Instead, she turned to Crispin.


    "Thank you for trusting me, Crispin. I promise you, once I''m an Essence Weaver, I too will protect people like your family."


    Crispin smiled, his eyes full of warmth and affection. "I know you will, Valentina. You''re already extraordinary."


    With these words, they parted ways. Valentina stood still for a moment and looked after Crispin as he walked down the corridor. She decided that if she had to walk around with a demon in her head that gave her access to secret knowledge, then she could at least use her growing abilities to do good and help people.


    Lost in these thoughts, she made her way to her room. Valentina closed the door to her small attic room behind her and leaned against it, exhausted.


    She flopped down on her narrow bed and stared at the sloping ceiling. The day''s events swirled through her mind: the terrible news about the goblin attack, Innogen''s concern for her family, the conversation with Crispin...


    "An eventful day, wasn''t it, little Weaver?" Vyxara''s voice sounded amused in her head.


    Valentina sighed. "Yes, I suppose you could say that."


    She got up and went to the window, opened it wide and let in the cool evening air.


    "You''ve had to do a lot of emotional labor for others today," Vyxara continued. "Your friend Innogen, so worried about her noble family. Poor Crispin, in love, and his tragic past. And you, in the middle of it all, alone with a secret that could change everything. Well. Not entirely alone, of course. There¡¯s me after all."


    Valentina leaned against the window frame and watched as the first stars appeared in the sky. "I don''t know what to do, Vyxara. I feel like I''m lying to everyone."


    "Lying?" The demon laughed softly. "You''re protecting them, little Weaver. From truths that would harm them to know. From possibilities that would frighten them."


    Valentina shook her head. "But is it right? Shouldn''t I be honest with my friends?"


    "And what good would that do?" Vyxara asked gently. "Would they understand you? Or would they turn away from you, perhaps even betray you? No, little Weaver, secrets are sometimes necessary. They not only protect you, but also those you love."


    Valentina turned away from the window and went to her desk. Her hand stroked the cover of one of the forbidden books she kept carefully hidden. She sensed the power that lay dormant in the pages, the knowledge that was waiting to be discovered.


    "But what about my ambitions?" she asked quietly. "I want to become a great Essence Weaver, I want to help my family, I want to make a difference. But at the same time, I can''t let people notice how quickly my skills are growing. I have to be careful."


    "Ah, that brings us to the heart of the matter," Vyxara said, and Valentina could hear the excitement in the demon''s voice. "You have great potential, little Weaver. Greater than you know. But to realize it, you have to be willing to take risks now and then, to cross boundaries."


    Valentina sat down at her desk and pulled a sheet of parchment towards her. With trembling hands, she began to write, organizing her thoughts.


    "The Greystone Competition," she murmured. "I need the money and it would be a way to prove my skills without... without risking too much, right?"


    "An excellent idea," Vyxara agreed. "A chance to show off your skills, gain recognition, get financial support for your family. And maybe even the protection of an important patron. Cosimo Greystone, the Duke of Duskenshire, is known to support the winners of the competition sponsored by his house."


    Cosimo Greystone, thought Valentina, the man to whose son Innogen was to be married. A magnate of the kingdom and fabulously wealthy. Valentina nodded slowly as she noted the pros and cons on the parchment. "But the competition will be fierce. Faustus and the other rich students have so many advantages..."


    "And you have me," Vyxara reminded her gently. "Together, we can accomplish things that the others couldn''t buy with all the gold in the world."


    Valentina put the pen aside and read through her notes again. She stood up and walked to the tarnished mirror, looking at her reflection in the faint light of the setting sun. Despite the long day, she still looked presentable.


    "I''m going to do it," she said firmly. "I''m going to enter the Greystone Competition. I''m going to give it everything I''ve got and I''m going to win."


    She sensed Vyxara''s satisfaction ripple through her consciousness. "A wise decision, little Weaver. You''ll be great, I promise you that."


    With renewed courage and a mixture of excitement and fear in her heart, Valentina stepped out of her door once more. She would register for the competition today.

 Chapter 19 - Call of Competition

    Valentina took a deep breath and straightened her shoulders before knocking on the heavy oak door of the Decanate. Her heart beat wildly in her chest, and she felt her palms grow damp.


    "Easy, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered in her head. "You have nothing to fear."


    "Come in!" a deep, authoritative voice sounded from inside.


    Valentina opened the door with trembling hands and stepped inside. The Decan''s office was an impressive room, clearly displaying the power and influence of its occupant. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, filled with old tomes and rare artifacts. A huge dark wood desk dominated the room, its surface covered in parchments and intricate-looking Essence instruments.


    Decan Egwine Valemont sat behind the desk, an imposing figure with silver-grey hair and rich eyes. He looked up from his documents and scrutinized Valentina with an impenetrable gaze.


    "Ah, Valentina, that''s your name, isn''t it?" he said in his deep, resonant voice. "What brings you to my office at this late hour?"


    Valentina swallowed hard and stepped closer. "Good evening, Your Magnificence. I... I''m here to officially register for the Greystone Competition."


    One of Valemont''s bushy eyebrows raised slightly. "Really? Well, that''s a surprising turn of events. Sit down, please."


    Valentina carefully lowered herself onto one of the heavy wooden chairs in front of the desk. She could feel Vyxara vibrating in her consciousness, radiating both encouragement and caution.


    "The Greystone Competition is no easy feat, Valentina," the Decan began as he pulled a parchment from a stack. "It''s a competition that pushes even our best first-year students to their limits. Are you sure you''re ready for this?"


    Valentina nodded resolutely. "Yes, Your Magnificence. I know it will be a great challenge, but I am ready to face it."


    Valemont leaned back in his chair and looked at her thoughtfully. "Let''s take a look at your achievements so far, shall we?"


    He began to leaf through the parchment, occasionally making notes with his quill. "Your grades are quite respectable, especially in the last few weeks. Professor Emberfell has particularly emphasized your progress in practical Essence manipulation."


    Valentina felt her cheeks redden. She knew that part of this progress was due to Vyxara''s influence.


    "However," Valemont continued, "there are also reports of... unusual occurrences."


    Valentina''s heart tightened and she could hear her pulse beating in her ears. Did someone suspect something? Did they know about Vyxara?


    "Professor Horne mentioned a poem that caused an uproar in his class?" the Decan said with a stern look.


    At once ashamed and relieved, Valentina blushed even more. "That... that was a misunderstanding, Your Magnificence. It won''t happen again."


    Valemont nodded slowly. "I understand. Well, Valentina, let me be frank. I am surprised by your desire to participate in the Greystone Competition. It''s a competition usually entered by students from... well, let''s say, more privileged backgrounds."


    He leaned forward, his eyes boring into hers. "I know about your background, Valentina. I know about the sacrifices your family has made to enable you to study here."


    Valentina froze. How did he know all this?


    As if he had read her mind, Valemont smiled thinly. "It''s my job to know about all my students, especially those with... exceptional circumstances."


    He stood up and walked to the window, his hands clasped behind his back. "The Greystone Competition will take all your resources, Valentina. Time, energy and yes, financial resources too. Are you aware that this will stretch your already scarce resources even further?"


    Valentina nodded gravely. "Yes, Your Magnificence. I am aware of the challenges. But I also see this as an opportunity to prove myself and perhaps... maybe even help my family."


    Valemont turned to her, his face softer now. "I understand your ambition, Valentina, please believe me that. It is commendable. But don''t forget that ambition without caution can be dangerous."


    He returned to his desk and reached for a quill. "Very well. If you''re so sure of yourself, I''ll approve your application for the Greystone Competition."


    Valentina felt relief and excitement spreading through her. "Thank you very much, Your Magnificence!"


    Valemont raised a hand. "But I''m warning you, Valentina. This competition will push you to your limits. It will demand everything you have, and perhaps even more. Are you prepared for that?"


    Valentina hesitated for a moment, then nodded decisively. "Yes, Your Magnificence. I am ready."


    "Well done, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered appreciatively.If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    Valemont looked at her for a moment longer, then nodded and began to fill out a parchment. "Very good. I will submit your application. The first round of the competition begins in two weeks. I advise you to use this time wisely."


    He handed her the completed parchment. "Here, your official application. Keep it safe."


    Valentina took the parchment with trembling hands. It felt like a key to a new, exciting, but also dangerous future.


    "Thank you, Your Magnificence," she said quietly. "I won''t let you down."


    Valemont smiled thinly. "I hope so, Valentina. I really hope so. And now, go. It''s late, and you have a lot of work to do."


    Valentina stood up and bowed slightly before walking to the door. As she touched the handle, Valemont held her back once more.


    "One more thing, Valentina," he said, his voice now serious and a little worried. "Be careful. The road to success is often paved with... temptations. Never forget who you are and where you come from. Because the other people around you won''t either, you can be sure of that."


    Valentina nodded silently, unsure what to say in response. With one last glance at the Decan, she left the office, clutching the parchment tightly to her chest.


    "You''ve taken the first step, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered appreciatively in her head. "But don''t forget that it''s an endurance race, not a sprint. You will need all your strength and cunning to succeed in this competition."


    "I know," Valentina murmured quietly. "But I''m ready. I just have to make it."


    As she turned a corner, she almost collided with a group of students who had just come out of one of the study rooms. One of them was Faustus Boarfend, whose eyes narrowed when he recognized Valentina.


    "Well, well, well," he sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "If it isn''t our little farm girl. What are you doing here so late? Looking for some leftover food in the garbage?"


    Valentina felt a blush rise to her face, partly out of anger, partly out of shame. "Leave me alone, Faustus," she said as calmly as she could.


    Faustus took a step closer, his gaze wandering intrusively over her body. "Oh, I already know. You''re probably on your way to see Professor Horne, aren''t you? I hear he likes his female students to... Take special lessons with him. If you know what I mean."


    The other students around him giggled mischievously.


    Valentina clenched her fists. "You don''t know anything, Faustus. Get out of my way."


    Faustus grinned maliciously. "You know, Valentina, it''s really admirable how you''re trying to keep up here. But let me tell you something: Essence Weaving is not for little bumpkin girls. Why don''t you go back to your farm doing something useful? Milking cows or fornicating with pigs or whatever it is you people do?"


    Valentina felt anger rising inside her. She opened her mouth to say something back, but Vyxara''s voice held her back.


    "Careful, little Weaver. Don''t let him provoke you. Wait for a better opportunity."


    With great effort, Valentina forced herself to calm down. "You''re wrong, Faustus," she said firmly. "And one day, I will show you how wrong."


    With these words, she pushed past the group and hurried down the corridor, Faustus'' mocking laughter ringing in her ears.


    "Well done," praised Vyxara. "Save your strength for the real fight. His eyes will pop out of his head when he sees what you''re capable of. Maybe literally."


    Valentina nodded silently, her determination now stronger than ever. She would show everyone, whatever the cost.


    Valentina decided to let her anger cool down in the university gardens before going to her room. It was already dark and autumnally cool. She settled down on a stone bench, her gaze fixed on the distant Burning Tower.


    The day had passed her by like a whirlwind, so many things had happened. The news of the goblin attack on Farwinter had cast a dark shadow over the day. Valentina thought of the fear in Innogen''s eyes when she spoke of her family, and of the horrible story Crispin had told her.


    "It''s all so unreal," she murmured quietly.


    "The world is often crueler than we would like to admit, little Weaver," Vyxara replied gently. "But it is better to know the cruelty of reality than to live in an illusion. An illusion that can be destroyed should be destroyed. Therein lies an opportunity for those brave enough to seize it."


    Valentina nodded slowly. Vyxara was right. Her conversation with Crispin had given her a new perspective. She had seen his vulnerability, his strength despite all he had been through. It had reinforced her own goal of becoming a great Essence Weaver. To help others, to be able to protect them ¨C to be able to protect herself.


    "I wonder if I''m doing the right thing," she said quietly as she turned the Greystone Competition entry form over in her hands.


    "Doubting your decision already, little Weaver?" asked Vyxara, a hint of amusement in her voice.


    Valentina shook her head. "No, I know I have to do it. For my family, for myself. But the path seems so difficult, so full of obstacles."


    She thought of Faustus'' cruel words, of the suspicious looks from some of the professors, of the seemingly insurmountable gulf between her and the wealthy students.


    "The road to success is never easy," said Vyxara. "But you have something that the others don''t have. You have me."


    A slight smile flitted across Valentina''s face. "Yes, I have you. Even if sometimes I don''t know whether that''s a blessing or a curse."


    Vyxara laughed softly. "I am both and neither. I am what you make of me. Your ambitions, your fears, your hopes ¨C they all shape our bond."


    Valentina stood up and walked slowly through the garden. The gravel crunched under her feet, and here and there little night creatures scurried through the undergrowth. In the distance, she heard the muffled laughter of some students who were out late.


    "What do you think awaits me in the competition?" she asked quietly.


    "Challenges like you can''t imagine," Vyxara replied. "You will have to push yourself to your limits and beyond. You will have to make decisions that will challenge your understanding of right and wrong. But if you persevere, if you have the courage to give it your all, then... then you can change your life. And that of your family."


    Valentina stopped and looked up at the starry sky. She felt a strange calm inside her, a determination that pushed all her doubts into the background.


    "I''m ready," she said firmly. "Whatever may come, I will rise to the challenge."


    "That''s the right attitude, little Weaver," Vyxara purred contentedly. "Together we''ll make it."


    Valentina made her way back to her room. The cool night air brushed her face as she crept through the quiet corridors of the university.


    Once in her room, she hesitated for a moment. The memories of the last two nights made her heart beat faster.


    "Vyxara?" she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Are we again... are we going to...?"


    She sensed Vyxara''s satisfaction. "Of course, little Weaver. If you want to. I promised you that I would help you get to know yourself better."


    Valentina nodded, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation filling her. She began to get ready for the night, her thoughts already on the experiences that awaited her.


    When she finally lay in bed, the darkness around her broken only by the faint moonlight, she whispered, "I''m ready, Vyxara. Show me more."

 Interlude - Crispins Diary

    Dear Diary,


    As night comes, I find myself at my desk again, surrounded by flitting candlelight. In those most quiet hours, when everyone else is asleep, my thoughts inevitably stray to her, to Valentina.


    Oh, Valentina. Just her name makes my heart beat faster. How can one person contain so much beauty, grace and intelligence? She was two rows in front of me in Professor Emberfell''s lecture and I barely could suppress the urge to just stare at her all day long. She looked just like the most beautiful Essence pattern as the sunlight streamed in through the high windows and made her chestnut hair glow. When she raised her hand to ask a question, her voice was the only thing I could listen to.


    She is distracting, and I know I should be paying more attention to the lectures, but it feels like it just doesn¡¯t matter when I see her face. There is more than her beauty that captivates me so much. It¡¯s her mind, her determination, her amazing talent for Essence Weaving. Her approach to problems is so unique. She hits the mark, half with intuition and half with careful analysis. I wish I had half of her talent.


    I sometimes wonder if she even sees me. We''re friends, we study together, and we talk about our lessons, sure. But does she see me as a man? I don''t think so.


    The day Professor Horne read my poem during the lecture, I can''t stop thinking about it. Oh, Martyr, what a disaster that was! The poem had been written in a moment of inspiration, because of how I feel for Valentina. It was supposed to be private, as a way of showing my affection, something I might one day find the courage to say to her eye to eye.


    I wanted to sink into the floor when he started reading it out loud. My face was turning red and my heart was pounding so loud I knew everyone in the room could hear it. The worst thing was seeing Valentina''s reaction. She was so embarrassed, so uncomfortable. If I could have gone back in time, I would have given anything to be able to undo that moment.


    The next days were torture. I was afraid to look Valentina in the eye, for fear I¡¯d see disgust or pity in her eyes.


    I finally found the courage to apologize to her today. Surprisingly, she was very understanding. She told me she had liked the poem, even if she didn¡¯t love me like I love her. In that moment her kindness only made her more wonderful in my eyes.


    She gently rejected me, but I can¡¯t stop wishing for more. You can sense a connection between us every time we talk, or when we study together, or even when we¡¯re just sitting next to each other in the dining room. Or maybe I¡¯m just making it up, but sometimes I think I see a glimmer of something more in her eyes when she looks at me.


    Who am I to hope to win her heart? I, Crispin Gillespie, son of a lesser noble family, second born, a mouse who loves books and the poetry of words more than swords and great deeds. Against other students here, at least the rich and beautiful ones, I must look like some sort of pale shadow to Valentina.


    But I can''t stop hoping, dreaming. It makes me happy every time she says my name, every time she touches my hand to get my attention, every time she laughs at one of my awkward jokes.


    I know I should be realistic. I should be studying, I should be thinking about my future. Father writes to me constantly, reminding me of my duties, of how important it is that I make connections here in Bridgewater, and prove myself a worthy representative of our house. But if I can¡¯t even open my mouth when important people are around, how am I supposed to make connections? I stutter as soon as a professor addresses me directly, how am I supposed to bring honor to our name?Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    Mother understands me better. She tells me to find my own way in her letters. She was always the one who ensured that I loved poetry, and taught me to find beauty in the little things in life. I sometimes think she is disappointed in my father¡¯s brooding strictness. I wish I could have that strength of hers, the gentleness and her unwavering faith.


    The truth is I¡¯m often lost here at university. No doubt the lectures are fascinating, and the chance to understand the secrets of Essence Weaving is awe inspiring. I can see the competition, the need to prove yourself or assert yourself, that others seem to feel, but I never thought my own life would be about that.


    I had always hoped to be a scholar or a poet. A life, reading books, studying the ancient texts, discovering the finer aspects of Essence Weaving. That¡¯s what I thought the university was all about. It all seems so much more complicated now that I''m here.


    For example, there is the Greystone Competition. They all talk about how important it is to enter, how it can make or break a young Essence Weaving''s career. Part of me deeply admires Valentina¡¯s courage and determination, because she has signed up for it. Another part, though, is also absolutely terrified at the idea of subjecting myself to such an ordeal.


    I know that I should participate. This would be a chance to show myself, maybe even impress Valentina. I don''t want to stand in front of all these people, and all these judges, and professors, and have to apply my skill and make myself so vulnerable to their criticism and judgment.


    Then there was the news about the goblins. The news about Farwinter opened up some old wounds. Sometimes I still dream of the screams, the stench, the fear. I told Valentina and she was so compassionate. She didn¡¯t judge me, and for the first time in a long time I felt understood.


    I wish I had the strength she does. Valentina has no fear. She shows so much determination to overcome every challenge, I really admire that. She masters it all, whether it¡¯s the difficult exams or the ubiquitous struggles that come with life at university for someone of her station and she does it all with a grace and courage that blows my mind.


    I watched her work on a particularly tricky Essence structure recently. She handled the Essence threads in a way that was so full of intuition and precise control at the same time, she just never ceases to amaze me. The way she furrows her brow concentrating, the way she lets her hands move as if they were in an elegant dance. When she finally stabilized the structure, and a beaming smile shone on her face my heart skipped a beat.


    Then I see how other students talk to her, how they can be so confident, and I feel small again and insignificant. Especially Faustus Boarfend drives me crazy. The way he looks at Valentina with greedy eyes, with that smug grin and that hatred ¨C it makes me want to kill him. But I just don¡¯t have it in me to stand up to him, for Valentina''s sake, to stand up for her against his lewd and patronizing remarks. Every time I try, I am speechless, a speechless idiot.


    Maybe it''s better this way. Perhaps it''s time I conceded I will always be just friends with Valentina. I should be thankful for the moments we share, her friendship, her trust. Why do I feel this way? It¡¯s like this flutter in my stomach, this jolt in my chest that comes every time I see her, every time I hear her voice, her laugh, I know that I¡¯ll never be able to stop wanting more. I wish, I keep imagine, that one day she will be my wife, that we will have children, that we will be happy together.


    What should I do? How do I manage these feelings that are about to swallow me whole? What can I do when my thoughts are always dashing towards her?


    Perhaps I should attempt to put my feelings into more poems. At least then this unrequited love would have been for something, would have made something beautiful. After the debacle with Professor Horne, however, I am afraid someone might find and read them again. I never want to put Valentina in that embarrassing situation again.


    It¡¯s getting late and I have another long day of lectures and tutorials tomorrow. I know my dreams will be full of her again, but I should try to sleep.


    My beautiful, brilliant Valentina. If you only knew what you do to me. I wish you could see how much I love you.


    Good night, dear Diary. May the Martyr watch over us all, and give us the strength to find our way, in Essence Weaving and in life.


    Your


    Crispin

 Chapter 20 - Awakened Ambitions

    The first light of the morning fell directly on her face. With a soft groan, Valentina turned over in her narrow bed, her body still comfortably relaxed from the after-effects of the previous night. A feeling of euphoria flowed through her, mixed with a gnawing sense of guilt that settled in her stomach.


    "Good morning, little Weaver," Vyxara''s voice purred in her head. "I hope you slept well after our... intense session."


    Valentina felt a blush rise to her face. "Vyxara, please," she mumbled, half embarrassed, half annoyed. "Do we really have to talk about this?"


    "Oh, but of course," the demon replied with a hint of amusement. "After all, our little nocturnal adventures are getting... more interesting, don''t they? I wonder how far you''re prepared to go."


    Valentina sat up abruptly, her long brown hair a tangled nest around her face. "That''s enough," she said sharply. "What we''re doing is... it''s just a means to an end. Nothing more."


    "Just tell yourself that often enough, little Weaver, and maybe eventually you''ll believe it," Vyxara chuckled.


    With a suppressed curse, Valentina swung her legs out of bed. The cool morning air made her shiver as her bare feet touched the floor. She hurried to her small dresser, where her worn-out wash bowl stood. The water in it was ice-cold, a shock that woke her up for good.


    As she hurriedly washed and dressed, her thoughts wandered to the previous nights. The intensity of her ''sessions'' with Vyxara had grown steadily, each night a new adventure in self-exploration and forbidden lust. It was exhilarating, frightening and absolutely addictive.


    "You enjoy it," Vyxara whispered in Valentina''s thoughts. "You long to know more, to feel more. Why do you fight it so much?"


    Valentina shook her head, as if she could drive the demon''s voice away that way. "It''s wrong," she murmured, more to herself than to Vyxara. "The Martyr would-"


    "The Martyr is not here," Vyxara interrupted gently. "Just you and me, little Weaver. And we both know you want more."


    Valentina bit her lip, unable to answer. Instead, she concentrated on braiding her hair into a neat plait. Her fingers moved deftly, years of practice making the task almost meditative.


    When she had finished, she went to her small desk where her bag and her Essence supplies lay. With a frown, she looked at the small bottle of Distilled Essence. It was shockingly empty, with barely more than a few drops shimmering at the bottom.


    "That won''t be enough," she murmured worriedly. "Not for the lectures today, and certainly not for the preparations for the competition."


    "Oh? And what do you intend to do about it?" asked Vyxara with a hint of anticipation in her voice.


    Valentina sighed deeply. "I don''t know. I... I''ll find something."


    She carefully put the bottle in her bag, along with her books and writing utensils. A glance at the position of the sun startled her ¨C she was late.


    She hastily grabbed her worn, warm cloak and hurried to the door. As she placed her hand on the door handle, she paused and took one last look in the small, stained mirror.


    Her reflection stared back at her, pale and with dark circles under her eyes. But there was also something new in her gaze ¨C a spark of something wild and dangerous. Something that both excited and frightened her.


    "You see?" whispered Vyxara. "You''re changing, little Weaver. Will it be for the better? That''s entirely up to you."


    Valentina swallowed hard and turned away. She opened the door and went downstairs into the courtyard, where the hustle and bustle of university life had already begun. Students hurried past her, some still sleepy, others already engrossed in animated discussions.


    When she arrived down in the courtyard, she heard the familiar ringing of the Burning Tower bell. It was a reassuring sound, a reminder of the order and tradition that made up Bridgewater University. But today it sounded somehow hollow to her ears, as if the bell were ringing a warning that only she could hear.


    Valentina entered the lecture hall just in time for Professor Emberfell''s lecture on Applied Essence Manipulation. The room was already full, the murmur of the students gradually dying down as the silver-haired professor took her place at the lectern.


    "Good morning," Professor Emberfell began in her characteristically sharp voice. "Today we will be looking at the more complex aspects of Leb-Essence manipulation. Who can explain the basic principles of Leb-Essence resonance to me?"


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. Normally she would have hesitated to speak up, but today she felt a strange urge to demonstrate her knowledge.


    "Do it," Vyxara whispered in her head. "Show them what you can do."


    Before she knew it, Valentina had raised her hand. Professor Emberfell''s eyebrows raised slightly as she called Valentina up.


    "Well, Valentina," she said, "surprise us."


    Valentina took a deep breath and began to speak, her voice trembling at first, then becoming more and more confident, she began to explain the basic principles. "Leb-Essence Resonance is based on the principle of harmonic vibration. If we weave the right geometric patterns, we can amplify and direct the natural vibrations of the Leb-Essence. This is what enables us to achieve complex healing and growth effects in the first place."


    She went on to explain in detail the different resonance patterns and their applications. When she had finished, there was silence in the room for a moment.


    Professor Emberfell nodded approvingly. "Very good, Valentina. That was an exceptionally precise and comprehensive explanation. I hope everyone took notes!"


    Valentina felt a blush rise to her face, partly from pride and partly from embarrassment at the unaccustomed attention. She could feel the admiring glances of some of her fellow students, but also the scowl of Faustus Boarfend, who was sitting two rows in front of her.


    The lecture continued and Valentina found herself answering complex questions and even suggesting improvements to the Weaving techniques presented. It was as if a dam had opened in her mind and the knowledge just flowed out of her.


    "You see?" whispered Vyxara triumphantly. "You don''t lack talent, but determination and self-confidence."You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    When the lecture ended, Valentina was surrounded by a small group of students who bombarded her with questions. She answered them as best she could, both surprised and flattered by the sudden interest.


    "That was really impressive, Val," said a voice behind her. Valentina turned around and saw Innogen looking at her with both admiration and concern.


    "Oh, thank you," Valentina replied, suddenly embarrassed. "I just had a good day, I guess."


    Innogen raised an eyebrow. "Having a good day? Val, you were brilliant. But..." She hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure everything''s all right? You look tired. I know you want to learn more and get better, but you''ll get sick if you work five hours longer than everyone else every day."


    Before Valentina could answer, Faustus pushed his way through the crowd. His face was a mask of barely suppressed rage.


    "Look at that," he said with a fake smile, "if it isn''t our new best in class. Tell me, Valentina, how is it that you''re suddenly so... talented? Did you learn a few tricks from Professor Horne, perhaps?"


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. "I don''t know what you''re talking about, Faustus," she said as calmly as possible. "I''ve just learned a lot."


    Faustus laughed humorlessly. "Oh, I''m sure of that. I just wonder what kind of... Lessons that were."


    "That''s enough, Faustus," Innogen interrupted sharply. "Just because you''re jealous doesn''t mean you have to be insulting."


    Faustus'' eyes narrowed. "Watch out, Lady Innogen. It doesn''t suit you to stand up for that peasant bitch."


    With one last venomous look at Valentina, he turned and stormed off.


    Valentina exhaled shakily. "Thank you, Innogen," she murmured.


    Innogen waved him off. "Don''t mention it, he''s a cretin. But seriously, Val, what¡¯s the matter with you? You seem so simultaneously... liberated and driven at the same time."


    Valentina forced herself to smile. "I''m fine, really. I''ve just been studying a lot and working hard."


    Innogen didn''t look convinced, but before she could ask further, the bell rang for the next lecture.


    The rest of the morning followed a similar pattern. In Professor Veilford''s Advanced Planar Geometry lecture, Valentina solved a complex problem on the slate that had even some of the best students confused. In Professor Ravencroft''s Ethics of Essence Weaving, she led an impassioned debate on the moral implications of medicinal Weaving techniques in war.


    With each success, Valentina''s confidence grew, but so did the gnawing feeling of guilt in her stomach. She knew that much of her new knowledge came from Vyxara, and the thought made her feel uneasy.


    "Why do you feel guilty?" Vyxara asked gently. "You''re just using the resources you have at your disposal. Isn''t that exactly what the rich students like Faustus do?"


    "That''s different," Valentina murmured quietly as she left the lecture hall after the last lecture. "They don''t use demons."


    "No, they use money and influence," Vyxara replied. "Is that really so much better? Is there really any difference at all? Does it really matter whether fat Faustus'' father pays 500 silver crowns for a private tutor to somehow get the knowledge into his son''s thick skull, or whether you learn from me and pay me in our way? Think about it, little Weaver. And also think about what else we could accomplish if you were willing to pay the price."


    Valentina shuddered slightly. "What price?" she asked, although she feared the answer.


    "Oh, nothing bad," Vyxara purred. "Just a few more... Experiences. A little more intense, a little more daring. You do enjoy it, don''t you?"


    Before Valentina could answer, she heard her name being called. She turned around and saw Crispin coming towards her, a shy smile on his face.


    "Hey, Val," he said. "I heard how brilliant you were today. Congratulations! I thought maybe you''d like to have lunch with me? We could talk about the Greystone competition."


    Valentina hesitated for a moment. Part of her wanted to refuse, wanted to be alone with her confusing thoughts and feelings. But the sight of Crispin''s hopeful face made her give in.


    "Sure, why not," she said with a faint smile. "Let''s go."


    As they walked together towards the dining room, Valentina felt Vyxara''s presence in the back of her mind, a reminder that the last word in their conversation had not yet been spoken.


    With a suppressed sigh, she followed Crispin into the busy dining hall. Valentina and Crispin made their way through the crowd of hungry students until they found a free table in a quieter corner.


    "Here," said Crispin, pointing to a bench further back. "That should give you some peace and quiet to talk."


    They sat down with their steaming stew of root vegetables and rabbit, accompanied by thick slices of dark bread. Valentina breathed in the spicy aroma and felt her stomach growl.


    "So," Crispin began as he dipped his bread into the stew, "you were really impressive this morning, I heard. How did you do it?"


    Valentina shrugged her shoulders and tried to sound casual. "I''ve just been studying a lot lately. You know, extra hours and stuff. But let''s not talk about me. How''s your preparation for the Greystone competition going? I thought you wanted to enter too?"


    Crispin''s face brightened. "Oh, it''s exciting! I''ve decided to work on the technique for improving the shelf life of food using a combination of Leb and Z?t Essence that I told you about on Innogen''s birthday. If it works, it could be a great help to farmers and merchants."


    "It really would help them," Valentina said sincerely. "How did you come up with the idea?"


    Crispin''s smile faded a little. "Well, to be honest, it was partly born out of necessity. My family... well, we''re lesser nobility, but we''ve also had some financial difficulties in recent years."


    Valentina felt a pang of sympathy. "Oh Crispin, I''m sorry about that. I didn''t know..."


    He waved it off. "That''s all right. It''s nothing compared to what your family is going through. But if I could make my project work, it would make a big difference, especially for the farmers who work our land."


    Valentina nodded understandingly. She knew only too well what it felt like to be under financial pressure. "I understand that. My family... well, you know, we''re in debt. That''s one of the reasons I work so hard. But your idea sounds really promising. I''m sure you have a good chance of winning."


    Crispin smiled gratefully. "That means a lot to me, Val. Especially from you. You''re so talented... Honestly, sometimes I feel a little intimidated."


    "Oh, Crispin," Valentina said with a sigh. "You don''t have to feel intimidated. You''re talented in your own way. I couldn''t write poetry like you do."


    He blushed slightly and lowered his eyes to his plate. "Thank you. But seriously, Val. How do you do it? I mean, your progress over the last few weeks has been amazing."


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. She hated lying to Crispin, but she couldn''t possibly tell him the truth. "I... I just found a new study method that works for me," she said evasively.


    "A new study method?" laughed Vyxara. "Is that the new euphemism for nocturnal demon summoning?"


    "That must be a damn good method," Crispin said admiringly. "Maybe you could show me?"


    Valentina laughed nervously. "Oh, I don''t know. It''s quite... personal. But I can help you with your project if you like."


    Crispin''s eyes lit up. "Really? That would be great! Maybe we could meet up at the weekend or so and work on it?"


    "Sure," said Valentina, relieved at the change of subject. "That sounds good."


    They ate in silence for a while, the clatter of cutlery and the hushed murmurs of the other students filling the air around them. Valentina watched Crispin furtively as he ate his stew with concentration and felt a twinge of guilt. He was so sincere, so honest in his efforts. And here she sat, with a demon in her head and forbidden books under her bed.


    "You don''t need to feel guilty," Vyxara whispered. "You do what it takes to survive and thrive. Everyone does."


    Valentina shook her head slightly to dispel the demon''s voice. She didn''t want to hear it now. Instead, she focused on Crispin again.


    "So," she said, "tell me more about your project. How exactly does the combination of Leb and Z?t Essence work?"


    Crispin began to explain enthusiastically, his hands gesticulating animatedly as he described the complex Weaving techniques. Valentina listened attentively, asking questions and offering suggestions. For a moment, she could almost forget what a dangerous game she was playing.


    When the bell rang to mark the end of the lunch break, they reluctantly stood up. "That was really helpful, Val," Crispin said with a smile. "Thank you. I''m looking forward to meeting you as soon as you''re free so we can continue working on it."


    "Me too," Valentina replied, and she really meant it. Despite everything, Crispin was a good friend, and she enjoyed his company.


    As they left the dining room to go to their afternoon lectures, Valentina felt Vyxara''s presence in her consciousness again.


    "That was a nice little chat," said the demon. "And it was kind of you to offer your help. But don''t forget, little Weaver, that you have bigger goals. If you really want to win the competition, Crispin is a competitor too."


    Valentina sighed softly. Yes, she had bigger goals. And she was determined to achieve them, no matter what the cost. With one last glance at Crispin, who disappeared into the crowd, she made her way to her next lecture.

 Chapter 21 - Market Mechanism

    After the afternoon lectures, Valentina retreated to a quiet corner of the library and settled down at a secluded table, surrounded by tall bookshelves that shielded her from prying eyes. She spread out her notes and pulled out a thin, leather-bound book ¨C a treatise on advanced Leb-Essence manipulation, which they would soon cover in Professor Emberfell''s lecture.


    With trembling hands, she opened the book and began to read. The descriptions of the complex Weaving techniques were fascinating but also frightening in their intricacy.


    "I can do it," she murmured quietly to herself. "I just have to try."


    "Of course, you can, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered in her head. "With my help, it would be child''s play."


    Valentina shook her head resolutely. "No," she thought, "I have to do this on my own. I can''t always be dependent on you."


    She felt Vyxara''s amusement like a warm wave in her consciousness. "Whatever you say. But remember, I''m always here if you need me."


    Valentina ignored the demon and concentrated on the task in front of her instead. She reached for her vial of Distilled Essence, only to realize once again that it was almost empty. With a suppressed curse, she set it aside. She would have to get by without it.


    Carefully, she began to draw the first lines of the complex Weaving pattern. The Essence around her reacted sluggishly. Working without Distilled Essence and only with Ambient Essence always felt like dragging a wheelbarrow through deep mud ¨C at least without Vyxara to help her keep the movements of her Weaving hands and fingers meticulously precise and maximally efficient. Valentina bit her lip and concentrated harder.


    Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the lines began to form. Threads of living Essence danced in the air in front of her, twisting and turning in intricate patterns. Sweat formed on Valentina''s forehead as she tried to control the unruly Essence and, at the same time, make all the necessary calculations in her head.


    Suddenly, she felt something give way. The pattern began to disintegrate. The Essence threads dissolved and disappeared. Valentina gasped with exertion and frustration.


    "Damn it!" she hissed quietly and slammed her fist on the table. A few students nearby looked up, startled, but she ignored them.


    "You see?" said Vyxara gently. "You need me. Without Distilled Essence, it''s wasted effort."


    Valentina closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. She knew the demon was right, and that made her angry. Angry at herself, angry at the circumstances that had put her in this situation.


    "It''s not fair," she murmured quietly.


    "Life is rarely fair, little Weaver," Vyxara replied. "But you have the power to turn it in your favor and not depend on fairness. All you have to do is accept my help."


    Valentina opened her eyes and stared at the open book in front of her. The words blurred before her eyes.


    "Is it really so wrong?" she asked herself. "If I use this knowledge to help others, to support my family... Isn''t that a good cause?"


    "Of course it is," purred Vyxara. "You have so much potential, Valentina. Why shouldn''t you make full use of it? Instead of begging for fairness, you should do everything you can to become strong enough to enforce fairness against the injustice in your world. Not just for your own sake, but also for all the others who deserve fairness."


    Valentina sighed deeply. She knew she was walking a dangerous path. But at the same time, she couldn''t deny that Vyxara was right about a lot of things. She couldn''t expect the world to just be fair to her ¨C she had to make it fair.


    "Maybe... maybe you''re right," she thought hesitantly. "Maybe I should accept your help. But only for the competition. Just until I get my family out of debt."


    She sensed Vyxara''s satisfaction. "A wise decision, little Weaver. You will see, together, we will accomplish many great things."


    With one last glance at the open book, Valentina packed up her things. She had made a decision, even if she still wasn''t sure if it was the right one. But one thing was clear: she needed more Distilled Essence, and she needed it badly.


    As she left the library, a plan was already forming in her head. She would have to pay a visit to Barnaby''s Necessities, the dodgy store near the university. Maybe, just maybe, she would find what she needed there. She had always found Distilled Essence at Barnaby''s at reasonable, though not cheap, prices. You could get anything at Barnaby''s ¨C if you didn''t think too hard about where it came from.


    ~


    Dusk was falling over Bridgewater as Valentina hurried through the narrow streets of the oldest part of the city. The smell of damp stone and burning wood hung in the air. She pulled her worn coat tighter around her as she turned into a particularly gloomy side street.


    At the end of the alley, wedged between a shabby tailor and an abandoned smithy, stood Barnaby''s Necessities. The crooked sign above the door squeaked in the evening wind, its old lettering barely legible.


    Valentina took a deep breath and pushed the door open. A rusty bell tinkled faintly as she entered.


    The store was a chaotic labyrinth of crammed shelves and wobbly piles of curiosities. Dusty books piled up next to rusty swords, stuffed animals stared from the walls. The smell of old leather, herbs and something weird ¨C perhaps some foreign spice, perhaps a decaying rat somewhere ¨C hung heavy in the air.The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Barnaby?" Valentina called out hesitantly. "Are you there?"


    A rustle sounded from the depths of the store, followed by a muffled curse. Then Barnaby of Trissbrook appeared from behind a pile of battered armor.


    The shopkeeper was a bulky man in his fifties, his nearly bald skull gleaming in the dim light of the oil lamps. His wrinkled face was framed by a scruffy gray beard, and his small, alert eyes scrutinized Valentina with a mixture of suspicion, greed and interest.


    "Ah, the girl from the university," he grumbled. His voice sounded like he''d eaten gravel for breakfast. "What gives me the honor?"


    Valentina stepped closer to the counter, careful not to knock anything over. "I need Distilled Essence," she said quietly. "Urgently."


    Barnaby raised a bushy eyebrow. "Urgent, huh? Well, girl, urgent things are expensive. Especially these days."


    He bent down under the counter and pulled out a dusty bottle. The pale blue of the distilled Essence shimmered faintly through the cloudy glass.


    "This is my last supply," he said. "Good quality, distilled directly by an Essence master from the capital. Will cost you a pretty penny."


    Valentina swallowed hard. "How much?"


    Barnaby named a price that made Valentina dizzy. "That... that''s more than twice as much as last time!" she protested.


    The old man shrugged his shoulders. "Well, girl, times are hard. The goblins are making the trade routes unsafe, taxes are rising. Besides," here he grinned wryly, "I know you need it. Urgently, as you say."


    Valentina felt panic rising inside her. She needed the Essence, but at this price... "Please, Barnaby," she said, leaning forward. She put on her most charming smile, played with a strand of her hair, and bent her left leg slightly as she looked deep into his eyes. It had worked once before. "Couldn''t you... make an exception? I know you actually have a big heart."


    Barnaby''s eyes traveled over her face, then lower. Interest ¨C maybe lust even ¨C flickered in his gaze for a moment, but then he shook his head. "Sorry, girl. A little flirting won''t cut it this time. Business is business."


    Valentina felt a blush rise to her face, partly out of shame and partly out of frustration. She reached into her pocket and counted her remaining money. It was nowhere near enough.


    "I... I can''t afford it," she said quietly, the words hurting her throat.


    Barnaby sighed heavily. "Well, then, I can''t help you. Come back when you have the money."


    He put the bottle back under the counter, the gentle clink sounding like a death sentence in Valentina''s ears.


    "Wait!" she called out desperately. "I... I have this." She pulled out the small silver pendant her mother had given her as a parting gift and to which she had originally intended to bind Vyxara. "It''s real silver. It must be worth something."


    Barnaby took the locket and looked at it critically. For a moment, Valentina saw something like pity flash in his eyes. Then he shook his head. "I''m sorry, girl. That doesn''t even cover half the price."


    He gave her back the pendant. Valentina stared at it, tears stinging her eyes. She knew she wouldn''t be able to bring herself to sell it anyway.


    "Is there... is there nothing else I can do?" she asked quietly, the desperation clear in her voice.


    Barnaby scrutinized her for a long time, letting his eyes wander greedily over her body. Then he sighed heavily. "Listen, girl. I like you. You remind me of my daughter before she was... well. But business is business. I can''t give you the Essence any cheaper, no matter how much you beg or flirt."


    Valentina left the store with a heavy heart. The cool night air hit her like a blow as she stepped out onto the street. She felt desperate and completely lost.


    "Don''t worry, little Weaver," Vyxara purred. "We''ll find a way. We always find a way."


    Valentina suppressed her rising tears and made her way back to the university empty-handed.


    ~


    Valentina closed the door of her small attic room behind her and went to her small desk. She lit a candle and began to empty the contents of her pockets. A few coins clinked sadly on the worn wooden surface.


    "That''s all?" she mumbled in disbelief. She counted the money three times in the desperate hope that the sum would increase as if by some miracle of the Martyr. But the result remained the same ¨C frighteningly little.


    "Oh dear," Vyxara whispered in her head. "This doesn''t look good, does it?"


    Valentina ignored the demon and turned to her supply of Distilled Essence instead. The small bottle was almost empty, only a tiny remnant, just enough for two drops or maybe three, shimmered at the bottom.


    "Damn it," she cursed quietly. She reached for the documents for the Greystone competition and skimmed the requirements to estimate how much Distilled Essence she would need. Her heart sank deeper with every word.


    "I''ll probably need at least a whole bottle of Essence," she said to herself. "And that''s just for the preparation. I''ll need a lot more for the actual competition."


    She lowered the papers and stared out of the window. She could see the Burning Tower in the distance. She thought of her family back home, of the debts that weighed on them. Of the hopes and expectations they had placed in her.


    Valentina shook her head. "I don''t know what to do."


    "Then let''s get creative," purred the demon. "There are so many ways to get what you need. We could fleece a few rich students. Or steal your friend Crispin''s stash under some pretext, you know he''d do anything for you, or maybe you could give some... special tutoring sessions."


    "Vyxara!" Valentina hissed indignantly. "That''s-"


    "What, immoral?" The demon laughed softly. "Oh, little Weaver, you always want to do none of the things that might solve your problems. If you don¡¯t want to fail you have to choose one of those things you don¡¯t want to do."


    Valentina closed her eyes and massaged her temples. She knew that Vyxara was right in a way.


    "There must be another way," she murmured.


    "It doesn''t always exist another way," Vyxara said gently. "The world doesn''t owe you a way that suits you better."


    Valentina opened her eyes and stared at the documents in front of her. The Greystone competition was her chance to change everything. To lift her family out of poverty, to make a name for herself.


    She got up and went to the window. Night had fallen, and the lights of Bridgewater twinkled like stars. Somewhere out there were other students preparing for the competition. Students with unlimited resources, with connections, and privileges she could only dream of.


    "It''s just not fair," she whispered.


    "We''ve been this far, little Weaver," Vyxara replied. "If you want fairness, then you have to be strong enough to enforce it."


    Valentina turned away from the window and let her gaze wander around the room. Her gaze lingered on the small wooden amulet of the Burning Tower her brother had carved for her. What would the Martyr think of her? Had he already given up on her long ago?


    With a deep breath, she walked back to the desk and sat down. She pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and began to write a list of all the ways she could think of to get the resources she needed.


    Some of the ideas were harmless and unpromising ¨C giving real tutoring, taking on extra duties for professors, shining shoes. Others were riskier ¨C playing cards for money in taverns, maybe even small scams.


    When she had finished, Valentina stared at the list for a long time. She knew she had to make some kind of decision.


    "Well, little Weaver?" asked Vyxara gently. "What are you going to do?"


    Valentina did not answer. Instead, she got up, extinguished the candle and lay down on her narrow bed. She stared into the darkness, her mind racing with thoughts.


    Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow, she would make a decision. But for now, she let the exhaustion take over, hoping that sleep would bring her clarity.

 Chapter 22 - A Pact of Desperation

    Dawn crept slowly through Valentina''s small attic window as she awoke from a restless sleep. Her head throbbed and the worries of the previous day still weighed heavily on her.


    "Good morning, little Weaver," Vyxara''s voice purred in her head. "Did you sleep well? Have you thought about what you want to do yet?"


    Valentina moaned softly and sat up. "Please, Vyxara. Not right now. I need to clear my head first."


    "Oh, but right now is the perfect time," the demon insisted. "Your mind is still receptive to new ideas. How about this one: I could help you¡­ procure¡­ Distilled Essence from the university supplies."


    Valentina froze. "You mean stealing? I can''t do that. That''s-"


    "Necessary?" Vyxara interrupted gently. "Think about it, little Weaver. The university has more than enough. They would hardly notice. And you need it so badly."


    "No," Valentina said firmly as she stood up and got dressed. "That''s not an option. If I get caught, I''m finished. I''ll find another way."


    She sensed Vyxara''s dissatisfaction in her consciousness. "You''re so stubborn," the demon sighed. "Still clinging to those small-minded moral ideas. What good are your morals if you fail? If your family loses everything?"


    Valentina bit her lip. The words hit a sore spot. "There must be another way," she muttered.


    "Oh, there''s always me, of course," Vyxara agreed, her voice suddenly soft and tantalizing. "I could help you, you know? Give you all the knowledge and strength you need. All I want in return is a few... even more intense experiences."


    Valentina froze her hand on the door handle. "What do you mean?"


    She felt Vyxara''s smile in her mind, like the touch of silken fingers on her skin. "Oh, you know exactly what I mean, little Weaver. Our nightly activities so far have been... superficial. But we could explore so much more. So much deeper."


    Images flashed through Valentina''s mind, so intense and vivid that she had to gasp for air. She saw herself, lost in ecstasy, her body next to others. She saw orgies, intertwined bodies, pure lust flowing through her veins.


    "No," she gasped and yanked the door open. "This is too much. I can''t do this."


    She stormed down the corridor, past sleepy fellow students who gave her confused looks. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and she could feel the blush rising to her face.


    "You can''t run away from yourself forever," Vyxara whispered. "You want it. I can feel it. The power, the freedom, the lust..."


    "Stop it!" Valentina hissed quietly as she hurried down the stairs. A few students looked at her strangely, but she ignored them.


    She reached the university courtyard, the cool morning air a welcome relief for her heated skin. The Burning Tower loomed before her.


    Valentina leaned against a cool stone wall and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, trying to organize her racing thoughts.


    "You can''t go on like this forever," Vyxara said gently. "You need my help. And I need... to feed. We could give each other so much."


    "At what price?" whispered Valentina. "How far do I have to go? How much of myself do I have to give up?"


    She felt Vyxara''s compassion like a warm embrace. "Oh, little Weaver. You''re not giving up anything. You''re gaining something. You''re just discovering who you really are. Who you could be."


    Valentina opened her eyes and stared at the Burning Tower.


    "I don''t know if I can do that," she said quietly.


    "Of course you can," Vyxara encouraged her. "You''re stronger than you think. Braver. You just have to jump over your shadow."


    Valentina swallowed hard. She knew she was at a crossroads. Every single decision she made now could change her life forever.


    "What... what exactly do you want from me?" she asked hesitantly.


    She sensed Vyxara''s triumph. "Nothing you don''t already have inside you, little Weaver. Let''s just... experiment. Let''s explore the limits of your body and mind. And in return, I will give you knowledge and power you can only dream of."


    Valentina shivered slightly, but not from the cold. Part of her was horrified by what she was contemplating. But another part, a part she hardly dared acknowledge, was intrigued. Excited, even.


    "I... I need to think about it," she finally said.


    "Of course," Vyxara purred contentedly. "Take all the time you need. But remember little Weaver: the candle is burning down. The competition is approaching, and your rivals are not sleeping."


    With these words, the demon withdrew into the depths of Valentina''s consciousness, a nagging presence at the edge of her perception.


    Valentina pushed herself away from the wall and made her way to her first lecture. Her head was buzzing with thoughts and feelings that she barely dared to sort out.


    As she entered the lecture hall, she saw Faustus Boarfend, who gave her a mocking grin. "Well, bumpkin," he shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. "Are you going to present us with your oh so advanced knowledge of Essence Weaving again today, which everyone who didn''t grow up in a pigsty in the forest gained years ago?"


    Valentina felt a mad, raging anger rise up inside her. She opened her mouth to say something back, but Vyxara''s voice held her back.


    "Let him talk, little Weaver. Soon, you will show him what true power is. If only you dare to seize it."


    Valentina swallowed her reply and sat down in silence. But it was boiling inside her. Oh, how she wished she could teach that vile bastard a lesson.


    When Professor Emberfell entered the room, and the lecture began, Valentina''s mind was far away. She thought of the fantasies Vyxara had shown her, of forbidden knowledge and the intoxicating lure of power ¨C power she could use to put a stop to a pig like Boarfend. And deep inside her, in a part of herself she hardly dared to explore, she felt a growing desire for more.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The lecture passed as if in a fog. Valentina barely noticed what Professor Emberfell was saying. Instead, her thoughts revolved around Vyxara''s offer and the possible consequences.


    By the time the bell announced the end of the lesson, Valentina had come to a decision. She would not accept Vyxara''s offer ¨C at least not yet. But she wouldn''t give up either. She would find another way to get the resources she needed without selling her soul. Maybe she should try again to convince Barnaby to sell her the Essence for less.


    Valentina was on her way to lunch and was sitting in the university dining hall, a piece of dry bread in her hand when a messenger rushed through the door. "Mail!" he shouted, and a cluster of students immediately formed around him.


    With a pounding heart, Valentina stood up and joined the queue. The messenger leafed through his pile of letters and called out names. "Valentina of Palewood!"


    She took the letter with trembling hands. Her father''s handwriting was unmistakable, spidery, and uncertain as if he had thought about every word for a long time.


    She sat back down at her table and carefully opened the envelope. The smell of hay and earth caught her nose, a painful reminder of home.


    "Dear Valentina," she read quietly. "I hope this letter reaches you in good health and in diligent study. Your mother asks me to tell you..."


    Her heart sank further and further as she read on. Between the lines of everyday news and fatherly admonitions, one passage stood out:


    "We had to sell two of our best dairy cows to satisfy the money lenders for the time being. It was a tough decision, but we had no choice. They will come back, we know that, but for now, we have some breathing space."


    Valentina felt tears welling up in her eyes. She hastily blinked them away and continued reading.


    "Concentrate on your studies, work hard, and don''t get discouraged. We pray for you for the blessing of the Martyr and are all thinking of you..."


    She folded up the letter and stared blankly in front of her. The noise of the dining room seemed to recede into the distance.


    "See?" whispered Vyxara in her head. "They''re sacrificing everything for you. How can you bear to give less than everything?"


    Valentina felt a pang of guilt and shook her head angrily to drive the demon''s voice away. She stood up, the letter firmly in her hand, and left the room. She needed some fresh air, needed to think.


    Once in the university courtyard, she dropped onto a bench. The cool autumn air caressed her face, cooling the hotness in the corners of her eyes.


    Suddenly, she heard voices, loud and carefree. A group of wealthy students came around the corner, including Faustus Boarfend.


    "...and then my father said he would get me three hundred vials of Distilled Essence for the competition," Faustus just boasted. "Only the best of the best, of course. No cheap trash."


    The others laughed and joined in. "My uncle has organized a personal tutor for me," said a girl with glittering earrings. "A real master from Vandercourt. He''s coming here especially for the competition."


    Valentina felt her stomach tighten. Three hundred vials? Three hundred? A master as a personal tutor? She was struggling to scrape together enough money for a single vial.


    The group passed by without noticing them. Their carefree laughter echoed in Valentina''s ears for a long time.


    "Do you see the difference?" asked Vyxara gently. "They play a very different game from you, little Weaver. With completely different rules."


    Valentina closed her eyes and leaned back against the cool stone wall. The reality of her situation hit her with full force. She was so far away from home, surrounded by people who lived in a completely different world to her.


    Her family sacrificed everything for her, even selling the cows. And here she sat, unable to procure even the most basic materials for her studies.


    The Greystone competition, her great hope, suddenly seemed like an unattainable dream. How was she supposed to compete against students who had such inexhaustible resources?


    "You could do it," whispered Vyxara. "With my help, you could put them all in the shade. It¡¯s not difficult. All you have to do is finally say yes."


    Valentina opened her eyes and stared at the Burning Tower in the distance. The Martyr had sacrificed himself to save all of humanity.


    And then she thought of Vyxara, of the promise of power and knowledge that the demon offered her. It was tempting, so tempting.


    "I don''t know what to do," she whispered into the wind.


    "Oh, but I think you know," Vyxara replied gently. "You know exactly what you have to do. The only question is whether you have the courage to finally do it."


    Valentina stood up slowly, her father''s letter in her hand. She would not go to the next lecture. She knew she had to make a decision.


    With a heavy heart, she made her way back to her room. She had a lot to think about, and time was pressing. The competition was approaching.


    ~


    Valentina sat on the floor of her small attic room, surrounded by books, notes, and the crumpled letter from her father. The flickering light of a single candle cast dancing shadows on the walls. Outside, the wind howled around the corners of the old university building, an eerie chorus to her turbulent thoughts.


    She stared at the list in front of her, which she had written in a fit of desperation. Normally lists helped her make a decision, but each option seemed worse than the last: stealing, cheating, selling herself. At the bottom of the list, in shaky handwriting, was the words "Accept Vyxara''s offer".


    "What am I supposed to do?" she whispered into the silence of the room.


    "You know what you have to do," Vyxara replied patient.


    Valentina closed her eyes and leaned her head against the cool stone wall. "I can''t... I can''t just throw my morals overboard."


    "Morality?" Vyxara''s laughter felt like shattering glass. "What good are morals if your family loses everything? If you fail and have to return home with nothing but shame in your luggage and your family has to sell their land or go into serfdom? Can your sisters eat your moral when they starve in the winter?"


    The words hit Valentina like a blow. She thought of the cows they had sold, of the moneylenders who would return. Of the hope in her siblings'' eyes when she left Palewood.


    Valentina opened her eyes and stared at the flickering candle flame.


    "And... what if we try to convince Barnaby again?" she asked hesitantly.


    "It would be worth a try. I could help you wangle the Distilled Essence out of Barnaby. Quite simply, quite painlessly."


    Valentina frowned. "How? I don''t have any money, and he won''t lower the price. You heard him."


    "There are other ways to get what you want," Vyxara purred. "Ways that don''t require money. He won''t even know what hit him. Just trust me."


    Valentina got up and went to the window and looked at the Burning Tower. She thought of the Martyr, of his sacrifice. Would he understand what she was about to do?


    "I don''t know," she said quietly. "It still feels wrong."


    "Wrong?" Vyxara''s voice was gentle, almost motherly. "What''s wrong with fighting for your dreams? For your family? You have so much potential, Valentina. Why would you waste it just because you''re afraid to bend a few rules? You don''t need to feel sorry for Barnaby ¨C he''s a crook and very likely a fence. Believe me, I have an eye for that sort of thing."


    Valentina turned away from the window and let her gaze wander around the room. Her gaze lingered on the small wooden amulet that her brother had carved for her. It hung next to the door, a reminder of her home and her family.


    At that moment, she made a decision.


    "All right," she said firmly. "All right, Vyxara. I''ll take the deal. Help me get the Essence from Barnaby."


    Vyxara''s triumph was like a flash in her mind as she felt the deal between them was closed. "Excellent, little Weaver. You won''t regret it. Just trust me and follow my instructions."


    Valentina nodded slowly. "What... what exactly are you up to?"


    "Oh, don''t worry about that," Vyxara said gently. "I have a plan. A very clever plan. All you have to do is trust me and do as I say."


    Valentina swallowed hard. She didn¡¯t like to be dependent on Vyxara. But she saw no other option. She had to do it for her family, for her future.


    "All right," she said quietly. "I trust you."


    "Good," Vyxara purred contentedly. "Very good. Now get some rest, little Weaver. Tomorrow, we''ll take the first step on our way to winning this competition."


    Valentina lay down on her narrow bed with a heavy heart. She didn''t know exactly what kind of trick Vyxara was planning, but she hoped fervently that it would work ¨C and that it wouldn''t be too criminal.

 Chapter 23 - Niceties for Necesseties, Part 1

    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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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.

 Chapter 24 - Niceties for Necessities, Part 2

    As Valentina walked around the counter, she entered a completely different world to the chaotic but reasonably tidy front part of the store.


    Stacks of books, boxes and crates were everywhere. A thick layer of dust covered every free spot. In one corner stood an old bed with stained sheets, next to it a crooked mirror and a wobbly chair.


    The whole thing looked like the lair of a miserly hermit who hadn''t cared about his own well-being for a long time.


    Barnaby led Valentina deeper into this private hideaway without paying attention to the mess or even excusing it. For him, this seemed perfectly normal, part of his daily life.


    "Sit down," he said, pointing to the bed. "We''ll be undisturbed here." Valentina hesitated briefly before reluctantly following his instructions.


    The bed creaked protestingly under her weight as she sat down on the edge, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Barnaby stopped in front of her, his massive form blocking what little light fell through the grimy windows.


    He grinned down at her, his yellow teeth flashing in the twilight. "You know what I want," he said in his raspy voice. Valentina swallowed hard and nodded. She felt Vyxara in her mind, the demon''s presence warm and soothing but also unrelenting.


    "I''ll do what it takes," she whispered, more to herself than to Barnaby. "I need the Essence." "Good girl," Barnaby growled. He stepped closer until he stood directly in front of her, his knees almost touching hers. "Let''s get started."


    Valentina looked up at him with growing unease. She could see the greed in his gaze, the hunger. "What... what should I do?" she asked nervously, her voice barely more than a whisper.


    "Come on now," he repeated impatiently. "A little demonstration of your skillful hands." Valentina froze. She felt Vyxara''s presence growing stronger in her mind, soothing her fear.


    "Put your hand on his chest, little Weaver," the demon whispered. "And slowly open his vest." With trembling fingers, Valentina placed her hands on Barnaby''s chest, feeling the coarse fabric of his vest beneath her palms. She forced herself to look him in the eye as she slowly began to undo his buttons. Barnaby was breathing heavily, his gaze fixed on her hands.


    When the last button was undone, Valentina pushed the vest aside, revealing a white shirt that clung to his body. She could feel the heat of his skin through the fabric.


    "Good girl," Barnaby murmured, his voice hoarse with excitement. "Now the shirt."


    Valentina hesitated for a moment, then did as he asked. Her fingers were clumsy as she undid the buttons of his shirt, but eventually she succeeded. Barnaby''s chest was hairy and wet with sweat. Valentina felt disgust rising inside her as she put her hands on it, but Vyxara''s voice stopped her from flinching.


    "Just imagine he is one of the guys from our fantasies," the demon whispered. "This is like a dream, little Weaver. Nothing more." Valentina took a deep breath and closed her eyes, tried to imagine it was a lover standing in front of her, not old Barnaby.


    When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Barnaby had already unbuttoned his breeches. His manhood was sticking out hard and unsightly.


    "Now your dress," he gasped. "Take it off. I want to see more of you." Valentina felt reluctance rising inside her. She didn''t want him to see her body, didn''t want him to touch her... But Vyxara convinced her. "Just do it," the demon whispered. "The faster we have the Essence, the faster we can get out of here."


    With trembling fingers, Valentina unbuttoned her dress and let it fall to the floor. She was only wearing her light undergarment. Barnaby licked his lips when he saw her almost naked body. "Good girl," he murmured again. "Now come here."


    He grabbed her by the arms and pulled her towards him until she was kneeling in front of him. His hands placed themselves on her breasts, kneading the soft flesh. Valentina flinched as she felt how roughly he touched her. She wanted to push him away... But she couldn''t bring herself to do it. She wanted the Distilled Essence even more.


    With trembling hands, Valentina wrapped her fingers around Barnaby. It was hard and fleshy, with a huge head that resembled a mushroom cap.


    Barnaby groaned as she began to stroke him, his hips moving rhythmically in her grip. "Yes," he gasped. "That''s good." Valentina closed her eyes and tried to focus on Vyxara''s instructions. The demon guided her hand, showing her how to rub him.


    "Slowly," Vyxara whispered. "Feel his reactions. Match his rhythm." Valentina did as the demon said. She felt Barnaby''s shaft pulsing under her fingers, felt the moisture gathering on its tip. "A little faster now," Vyxara instructed. "But not too fast. Let him guide you." Valentina quickened her grip and felt Barnaby press his hips against her hand.


    His breathing was intermittent, his sighs became louder. "Yes," he gasped. "Keep it up." Valentina obeyed, holding her own breath as she felt Barnaby''s arousal rise further and further.


    She looked up at him, saw the desire in his gaze. Shame rose in her, but also a sense of how surreal this situation was. Barely fifteen minutes ago, he had been the same shrewd merchant and cunning negotiator as ever and now he stood here, completely out of control with lust. "Desire is a powerful motivator, little Weaver," the demon whispered. "And you played him like a lute."


    And so Valentina continued, her hand stroking Barnaby faster and harder. She felt him stiffen, heard his breath hitch... And then he came with a loud groan, his seed spilling over her fingers. Valentina quickly withdrew her hand, disgusted by the sticky liquid.


    Valentina felt dirty as she knelt there, Barnaby''s seed on her hand. She wanted nothing more than to get out of there and wash herself. But Vyxara was a calming presence, her voice soft but firm in Valentina''s mind. "You''re almost there, little Weaver," the demon said. "Just a little longer. Get the Distilled Essence, and then we can get out of here."


    Barnaby grinned down at her as she wiped her hands on his sheets, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "That was fantastic," he gasped. "Very good. You have talent." Valentina swallowed down the bitter retort that threatened to escape her lips.


    She forced a smile instead that felt like a grimace. "Thank you," she murmured. She couldn¡¯t look him in the eye. Barnaby reached out and stroked her cheek. "I''ll give you a large discount," he said with a friendly smile, "You''ve earned it."


    Valentina shivered slightly as she straightened her clothes. Her fingers fumbled awkwardly with the buttons of her dress as she tried to process the reality of what had just happened.


    "Here," Barnaby said, handing her the large bottle of Distilled Essence. "As promised. Half price."


    Valentina took the bottle with trembling hands and gave him the now much lower ¨C but for her still painfully expensive ¨C amount it now cost. The cool glass felt strange against her warm fingers. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely more than a whisper.Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.


    Barnaby watched her with a mixture of satisfaction and a touch of guilt. "You''re a bright young woman," he said more gently than before. "Come to me when you need more. I promise I''ll be generous."


    Valentina nodded silently, still unable to look him in the eye. She carefully put the bottle in her pocket and stepped out into the cold winter air. The contrast to the stuffy warmth of the store made her shiver.


    "Well done, little Weaver," Vyxara purred in her head. "You''ve done brilliantly."


    "Shut up," Valentina hissed. "I feel dirty."


    "Oh, come on," Vyxara replied. "It wasn''t so bad after all. And look what you got for it! That''s enough Distilled Essence to get by for the time being."


    Valentina did not answer. She walked quickly through the snowy streets, her head lowered to avoid the gaze of passers-by. A storm of shame, disgust and, to her surprise, a hint of triumph raged inside her.


    As she reached the university, she heard familiar voices. Innogen and Crispin came along the path, laughing and deep in conversation. Valentina froze, panic rising inside her. She couldn''t face them now, not with the smell of Barnaby still on her skin.


    "Calm down," whispered Vyxara. "Just walk past them. Pretend you''re in a hurry."


    Valentina bowed her head even lower and hurried past her friends, mumbling a hasty apology when Innogen addressed her.


    "Val? Are you okay?" Innogen called after her, but Valentina had already disappeared around the next corner.


    She finally reached her room. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it, breathing heavily. Slowly, she pulled the bottle of Distilled Essence out of her bag.


    "See?" said Vyxara softly. "It was worth it, wasn''t it?"


    Valentina stared at the small bottle in her hand. She knew that, in a way, Vyxara was right. With this Essence, she had a real chance of winning the Greystone competition. Which would mean saving her family and securing her future.


    But it hadn''t been easy.


    With trembling hands, she placed the bottle on her desk. Then she went to her small washbasin and began to wash her hands thoroughly, as if she could wash away the memory of Barnaby''s touch at the same time.


    "Don¡¯t be too hard on yourself," Vyxara commented. "What you did was brave. It was necessary."


    "Was it really?" whispered Valentina, staring at her reflection. The young woman looking back at her looked older, tougher. Was it still her?


    "Of course it was," Vyxara replied firmly. "You did what was necessary. That''s the reality of the world, little Weaver. The strong do what they must. The weak perish. You showed today that you are not one of the weak."


    Valentina closed her eyes, letting the demon''s words sink in. Part of her knew that Vyxara was right. These were the rules of the world. She hadn''t made the rules. Not even Vyxara had made the rules. But another part screamed in horror at what she had done, what she might yet do.


    She opened her eyes again and looked determinedly into the mirror. "If that''s the price," she said quietly, "then I''ll pay it. But on my terms."


    "That''s my girl," Vyxara purred contentedly.


    Valentina turned around, her gaze falling on the bottle of Distilled Essence and the forbidden books. She had paid a high price, but now she had the means to achieve her goals. She would not, could not allow this sacrifice to be in vain.


    She sat down at her desk, took out the bottle of Distilled Essence and one of her two forbidden books. It was time to learn, to grow, to become stronger, to see what she could do with it.


    "Why don''t you try something?" suggested Vyxara, her voice full of anticipation. "There''s a fascinating chapter on complex Leb-Essence manipulations. Something your professors would never teach you. With this one, you could make a tree grow to twice its normal size."


    Valentina hesitated for a moment, then gave in. She turned to the page and studied the complicated diagrams and formulas. It was far beyond anything she had ever learned before, but the basic principles were easy enough for her to understand.


    With trembling hands, she uncorked the bottle of Distilled Essence and let a drop fall onto her fingertips. The liquid tingled on her skin as if it were coming to life.


    Slowly, Valentina began to imitate the gestures described. Her fingers moved through the air, drawing patterns for hours. She felt the Essence around her begin to move, streams of energy forming and interweaving.


    Suddenly, the air in front of her lit up. A delicate web of glowing green floated before her eyes, pulsating gently in rhythm with her heartbeat. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time.


    "I... I did it," Valentina gasped in disbelief.


    "Of course you have," Vyxara purred contentedly. "You''re more talented than you think. With my help and this book, you''ll soon outshine everyone at the university."


    For a moment, Valentina felt nothing but pure euphoria. She had achieved something far beyond her previous abilities. It was exhilarating.


    But then her gaze fell on her hands and the memory of Barnaby returned. The euphoria gave way to a feeling of heaviness in her heart.


    "Vyxara," she said softly as she slowly unraveled the glowing web, "what is happening to us here? With me? I sometimes feel like I''m losing myself."


    The demon was silent for a moment, as if it was thinking carefully about its answer. "You''re not losing yourself," Vyxara finally said softly. "You are growing. You are evolving. Change always feels confusing."


    Valentina got up and went to the window. Outside, night had fallen and snow was falling gently on the rooftops of Bridgewater. In the distance, she could see the Burning Tower in the drifting snow.


    "But what if I turn into something I don''t want to be?" she whispered, more to herself than to Vyxara.


    "Oh, little Weaver," the demon sighed. "You are still in control of your destiny. I can help you, advise you. But you have to make the decisions yourself."


    Valentina nodded slowly. She could feel the exhaustion of the day catching up with her. Her limbs felt heavy and her head ached from the day.


    She went to her narrow bed and slumped down on it. The rough blanket scratched her skin, but she was too tired to care.


    "Vyxara?" she murmured, already half asleep.


    "Yes, little Weaver?"


    "Promise me that you don''t make me lose myself. That you don¡¯t make me go too far."


    There was silence for a moment. Then, very softly: "I promise, Valentina. Go to sleep now. A new day awaits you tomorrow."


    With this promise ringing in her ears, Valentina slipped into a restless sleep. In her dreams, she saw herself surrounded by swirling Essence patterns, powerful and terrifying. And somewhere in the shadows, a figure with countless eyes lurked, watching her every move.


    Then her dream changed. The Burning Tower rose before her, but it was not the familiar tower of the university. This tower was older, more powerful, its flames blazing with an intensity that took her breath away.


    She recognized it immediately: the original Burning Tower of the Martyr.


    The flames danced and swirled, forming faces and shapes. Valentina saw herself reading the forbidden book, negotiating with Barnaby, kneeling before him, weaving Essence into patterns more powerful than what she was learning at university. The flames seemed to be watching her, judging her.


    Suddenly the flames parted, and a large figure emerged. The Martyr himself, burning, his face marked by suffering, but his eyes full of compassion. He reached out to her, his lips moving, forming words she could not hear. Then the human figure of the Martyr unfolded before her and a thousand burning eyes looked straight into her soul.


    Valentina woke with a gasp, her heart racing. Sweat covered her forehead and her hands trembled slightly. She sat up, her gaze wandering around the dark room until it lingered on the forbidden book and the bottle of Distilled Essence on her desk.


    "What was that?" she whispered into the silence.


    "A nightmare," Vyxara replied gently. "Go back to sleep, you need your strength."


    But Valentina got up and went to the window. The sky in the east was already beginning to brighten, a new day was dawning. She felt different as if something fundamental had changed in her that night.


    "I feel... different," she said quietly. "Like I''m not the same person I was when I woke up yesterday."


    "Of course not," Vyxara replied. "You''re never the person who woke up the day before. Every day you have new experiences. You grow, you develop. Granted, yesterday, you may have had more extraordinary experiences than usual. But you choose your own path."


    Valentina turned and looked at her reflection, her eyes looking wiser. "Where does this path lead, Vyxara?" she asked.


    "Wherever you lead it, little Weaver," the demon replied. "The decisions are yours. Whatever you decide, I am by your side."


    Valentina nodded slowly. She went to her desk and picked up the forbidden book. It felt heavy, full of promise and danger.


    "The Greystone Competition," she said firmly. "We''re going to win it. Whatever the cost, Vyxara. Do you hear me?"


    "Whatever you need," Vyxara purred contentedly. "Together, we''ll outshine them all."


    Valentina let her fingers roam over the bottle of Essence she''d paid for so dearly, thinking back to what she''d done with Barnaby. "If that''s what it takes," she murmured, "then so be it."


    The day would soon be here. It would be nonsense to lie down again now, Valentina thought. The doubts and fears of the night faded in the light of the dawning day. She had made a decision, and now there was no turning back.


    She began to read in the forbidden book, ready ¨C no, greedy even ¨C to unravel every secret, master every forbidden technique. The world around her faded into the background as she went deeper and deeper into the depths of its forbidden knowledge.

 Chapter 25 - Whispers in the Library

    When Valentina awoke, she opened her eyes slowly and stretched carefully. Her body felt heavy, as if she was carrying an invisible burden on her shoulders.


    Two days had passed since her encounter with Barnaby, and yet it seemed like an eternity. The initial shame that had enveloped her like a suffocating blanket had given way to a steely resolve. She sat up, her gaze falling on the bottle of Distilled Essence on her desk. Worth the sacrifice. At least, she hoped it was.


    "Good morning, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered in her head, her voice as soft as silk. "How are you feeling today?"


    Valentina swallowed hard. "Better," she murmured, surprised by the truth in her words. "Much better."


    She thought back to yesterday, to the hours of conversation with Vyxara, in which the demon had patiently dispelled her doubts and justified her decisions.


    "You did what was necessary," Vyxara had assured her, her voice full of understanding and compassion. "You''re fighting for a place in a world ruled by privilege and nepotism, and you have to make hard choices. It''s not easy. No one has the right to judge you for it. But nobody needs to know either. In the end, no one cares what it took to succeed. You''ll see."


    What Vyxara said made sense, and now, in the cold light of morning, Valentina felt those words take root in her. The gnawing guilt had slowly started to fade. She would do it again if she had to. For her family, for her future.


    She stood up and walked to the window, her gaze sweeping over the rooftops of Bridgewater. The Burning Tower loomed in the distance as always. But today she felt strangely unaffected by it.


    "You should prepare for the Greystone Competition," Vyxara reminded her gently. "Time flies faster than you think."


    Valentina nodded. "You''re right. I should go to the library and study."


    She got dressed and when she looked in the small, stained mirror next to the door, she saw her again, the new Valentina. Her eyes were older, wiser and perhaps a touch harder. She was no longer the naive country girl who had arrived in Bridgewater a few months ago. And that was a good thing. There was no place for that girl in a place like Bridgewater.


    On her way to the door, she paused, her gaze falling on the small wooden amulet of the Burning Tower that her brother had carved for her. She hesitated for a moment, then took it off and put it in a drawer.


    She reached for her worn bag, stuffed some books and writing utensils into it and then left her room.


    The corridors of the university were already full of life. Valentina made her way through the students, her gaze fixed resolutely ahead.


    As Valentina pushed open the heavy door to the library, she took a moment to let the awe-inspiring atmosphere sink in. In the library she always felt small and powerful at the same time. Small in the face of the sheer amount of scholarship that surrounded her, but powerful in the knowledge that it was all at her disposal.


    Valentina walked through the corridors, her steps muffled by the thick carpets. Students sat at long tables, engrossed in their books and notes.


    At her favorite spot in a particularly secluded corner, half-hidden behind a massive shelf full of tomes on advanced Essence theory, Valentina found a free table. She settled down, spread out her books and notes and lit the small Essence lamp that stood on each table.


    "That really is a good place you''ve found," Vyxara murmured appreciatively.


    Valentina nodded imperceptibly and began to work. She immersed herself in complex Essence patterns, her quill flying across the paper as she drew diagrams, noted formulas and calculated values. The hours passed as she worked her way through chapter after chapter, each new concept a step closer to her goal.


    "Young lady," a stern voice suddenly rang out. Valentina startled and looked into the stern face of Matilda Ravencroft, the librarian, who scowled as she saw how Valentina had scattered the books around herself. "I hope you treat these books with the respect they deserve."


    "Of course, Mistress Ravencroft," Valentina replied hastily. "I am being very careful."


    Ravencroft scrutinized her with narrowed eyes. "I should hope so." With one last suspicious look, she hurried off.


    Valentina breathed a sigh of relief. "That woman is a real str?zgeizel," Vyxara commented, amused. "But don''t get distracted. We have more important things to do."


    She nodded and immersed herself in her work again. But the longer she read, the more frustrated she became. The more complex Essence patterns seemed to elude her understanding, like water running through her fingers.


    "It''s too difficult," she muttered desperately. "I just don''t understand it."


    "You''re being too hard on yourself," Vyxara said gently. "You''re making great progress in a short time. Maybe it''s time to try a different approach."Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!


    Valentina raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"


    "There is a technique," the demon began hesitantly, "a very powerful ability that could help you and give you an advantage in the competition."


    "What kind of ability?" asked Valentina, her curiosity piqued.


    "It''s called ''Essence Listening''," Vyxara explained. "It allows you to perceive and interpret vibrations in the Essence around you. You could eavesdrop on conversations, discover hidden secrets..."


    Valentina hesitated. The idea was tempting. "And what... do you want from me in return?"


    "Nothing," Vyxara replied gently. "I think you deserve a little reward from me after the events of the last few days. You have done extremely well."


    Valentina bit her lip, her gaze wandering to the other students in the library. Over there sat Faustus Boarfend, surrounded by a pile of the rarest and most expensive books. "That scumbag," she thought involuntarily.


    "All right," she finally said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Show me."


    "Excellent," Vyxara purred contentedly. "Close your eyes and concentrate. I''ll guide you step by step."


    Valentina closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The sounds of the library ¨C the rustling of paper, the soft murmur of students ¨C slowly faded into the background.


    "Good," whispered Vyxara. "Now concentrate on the Essence around you. Feel how it flows through the air."


    Valentina frowned, trying to sense the invisible currents. At first, she noticed nothing but the silence in her own head. After a few minutes, she grew increasingly frustrated.


    "Patience, little Weaver," Vyxara admonished gently. "It takes time and practice. Imagine dipping your hands into a river of pure whirling Essence."


    Valentina took another deep breath and tried to imagine the image. Slowly, very slowly, she began to feel something. It was like a slight tingling sensation on her skin, a gentle pulsation in the air around her.


    "I... I think I feel something," she whispered excitedly.


    "Very good," praised Vyxara. "Now try to concentrate on a particular current. Follow it with your senses."


    Valentina bit her lip and tried to follow one of the faint currents she sensed. But as soon as she focused on it, it seemed to disappear, like a shy animal fleeing from her gaze.


    "It''s not working," she muttered in frustration. "I can''t hold on to it."


    "Don''t be so hasty," Vyxara reassured her. "You''re trying too hard to control it. Just let it happen. Be the observer, not the hunter."


    Valentina nodded slightly and tried again. This time, she simply let the currents flow through her without trying to grasp them. To her surprise, her perception suddenly became much clearer.


    She could distinguish the different Essence types ¨C the warm pulsation of Leb, the flickering dance of Viur, the cool current of Wazzer. It was overwhelming and beautiful at the same time.


    "It''s incredible," she breathed.


    "Well done," praised Vyxara. "Now the next step. Try to read the Essence currents. They carry the sound, information, snippets of conversation."


    Valentina concentrated again. At first, she only heard an indistinct murmur, like the distant murmur of a stream. But slowly, individual words began to crystallize.


    "...the exam next week..." "...Professor Horne is such a bore..." "...have you heard about the new Essence pattern...?"


    The voices came and went like waves, sometimes clearer, sometimes blurrier. Valentina felt intoxicated by the new impressions.


    Then, out of seemingly nowhere, a sharp pain shot through her head. She gasped and opened her eyes abruptly. The world around her seemed to sway, the colors too intense, the sounds too loud.


    "Careful," warned Vyxara. "Not too much at once. You need to build up your tolerance slowly."


    Valentina nodded dazedly and rubbed her temples. The pain slowly subsided, but she felt exhausted, as if she had been studying intensively for hours.


    "That was... intense," she mumbled.


    "Yes, but you''re making impressive progress," Vyxara encouraged her. "With more practice, you''ll be able to control the ability better. But don''t overdo it."


    Over the next two hours, Valentina continued to practice, interrupted by short breaks whenever the effort became too great. Slowly but surely, her perception became sharper and her control more precise.


    She learned to concentrate on certain areas, to filter out individual conversations from the babble of voices. It was as if she had developed a sixth sense, one that she could interpret like hearing, but that opened up a whole new world to her.


    But there were also setbacks. Sometimes, she lost control and was overwhelmed by a flood of noises. Once, the pain was so intense that she nearly blacked out.


    "I can''t do it," she gasped after a particularly violent fit. "It''s too much."


    "You''re stronger than you think, but you''re not made of steel," Vyxara encouraged her, "I''m amazed at how quickly you''re progressing."


    Valentina nodded grimly and carried on. Another hour passed while she practiced, failed, and tried again.


    Then, without her being able to explain exactly what had changed, it happened. Valentina sat there, eyes closed, completely absorbed in the streams of Essence around her. It was as sudden as if a candle had been lit in her mind, allowing her to finally see.


    The chaotic impressions became organized, clear, and distinct. She could hear every single conversation around her, as if she were sitting at every table at the same time.


    "I... I did it," she whispered breathlessly.


    "Yes, you did," Vyxara confirmed, and Valentina could hear the pride in the demon''s voice. "That''s it. You''ve learned an ability that most Essence Weavers don''t even know exists."


    Valentina slowly opened her eyes. The world around her seemed changed. Over there sat Professor Veilford, deeply immersed in a book, she could hear him turning the pages as if she were holding her ear directly to the book.


    At the next table, a couple were arguing in hushed voices. Valentina''s face flushed when she heard what they were arguing about. ¡°No, Piers, that¡¯s disgusting,¡± said the girl.


    And then there was Faustus, who was talking to some of his friends. Valentina focused on him, and her jaw almost dropped when she heard how horrible he talked about Professor Emberfell.


    "This is incredible," she murmured, "I can hear everything."


    "Don''t overdo it," Vyxara said warningly. "With practice, you can perfect this skill, but if you can''t control yourself, the headache will return, and it will be worse."


    Valentina nodded slowly, her head buzzing with possibilities. With this ability, she could make up for some of the advantages her richer fellow students had. She could learn secrets and eavesdrop on her competitors'' strategies. The headache was nauseating, but the ability was priceless.


    Part of her was horrified by this. But a larger part, the part that was driven by ambition and desperation, only saw the opportunities that presented themselves to her.


    Valentina stood up, her legs a little wobbly from the hours of intensive training. The pain in her head throbbed. She packed up her things. As she left the library, she took one last look back.


    The library now seemed like a big playground to her, a place full of secrets just waiting to be overheard.

 Chapter 26 - Echoes of Ambition

    The next day, after the lectures, Valentina returned to the library. The excitement of her newfound ability tingled in her fingertips as she went to her secluded spot. The slight headache from the day before had given way to nervous anticipation.


    With trembling hands, she unpacked her books, trying to look like she was working concentratedly.


    "Are you ready, little Weaver?" whispered Vyxara in her head.


    Valentina nodded imperceptibly and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath and let her senses immerse themselves in the Essence around her, just as she had learned to do the day before.


    At first, all she heard was the usual murmur of the library ¨C the rustling of pages, the scratching of feathers on parchment, the occasional cough or whisper. But then, very gradually, individual snatches of conversation began to emerge.


    "...and then Professor Veilford said that the exam..." a voice reached her ear as clearly as if the speaker was standing right next to her.


    Valentina opened her eyes in surprise, but the table next to her was empty. She focused again and followed the conversation. It was coming from a group of students sitting at a table a good ten meters and a few shelves away.


    "...will certainly be harder than last year," said a female student with long blonde hair. "I heard he wants to raise the difficulty."


    "Oh, nonsense," replied a red-haired guy. "Veilford is far too lazy to think up new tasks. He''ll just use the old ones again."


    Valentina listened intently as the group continued to discuss the upcoming exams. She learned which topics Professor Veilford particularly liked, which books he quoted most often, and even what kind of answers he preferred.


    "You see?" murmured Vyxara with satisfaction. "Knowledge is power. And you now have access to more knowledge than ever before."


    Valentina nodded slowly as she continued to listen. The students changed the subject and started gossiping about other professors.


    "Did you hear that Professor Emberfell is supposedly having an affair with a student?" giggled a girl with freckles.


    "No!" the redhead gasped. "With who?"


    "I don''t know exactly, but I saw them coming out of their office together late at night..."


    Valentina felt a blush rise to her face. Even back in the village, she had hated the gossips and felt guilty for overhearing such things, but at the same time, she couldn''t stop listening.


    She focused on another group, this time older students talking about the Greystone Competition.


    "I heard they''re going to introduce a whole new type of task this year," said one.


    "Really? What?" asked a young woman.


    "Allegedly something to do with the practical application of Essence Weaving in stressful situations. But these are just rumors. The professors are tight-lipped because they''re afraid we''ll reveal something to the first-year students."


    Valentina''s heart began to beat faster. This was valuable information for her preparation for the competition.


    "You should remember that," Vyxara murmured. "Every advantage counts."


    Valentina nodded as she continued to listen. She spent the next two hours jumping from conversation to conversation, an invisible guest at dozens of tables.


    She learned about secret love affairs between students, attempts to cheat on exams, family secrets, and political intrigue. It was exhilarating and frightening at the same time to discover how many secrets the walls of the library held.


    When she finally released her concentration, her head ached again, and she felt exhausted but at the same time, wide awake.


    "That was impressive," praised Vyxara. "You seem to have a natural talent for it. But don''t get carried away. I don''t want you to have a stroke."


    "Thank you," Valentina murmured quietly. "But... isn''t it wrong to violate other people''s privacy like that?"


    Vyxara laughed softly. "Do you think the others would hesitate if they were in your place?"


    Valentina thought of Faustus and his rich friends, of all the advantages they had. "Probably not," she admitted.


    "You see? You''re just leveling the playing field. Besides, who are you hurting? You''re just listening, that''s all."


    Valentina nodded slowly. Vyxara was probably right. She wasn''t hurting anyone. And if it could help her be better in the competition. helped her family... why not?


    "You''re right," she finally said. "I''d be stupid not to put that skill to good use."


    Vyxara purred contentedly in the background of her consciousness.


    "One more time, Vyxara, then I''ll rest," Valentina said, closing her eyes again. She let her senses soak in the Essence around her, more carefully this time so as not to make the headache worse.


    As always, all she heard at first was the murmur of the library. But then, as if someone was slowly increasing the volume, she began to hear individual voices again.


    "...the Greystone Competition will be different this year," she suddenly heard a familiar voice. It was Professor Emberfell, speaking to someone Valentina couldn''t see.


    Her heart began to beat faster. She concentrated harder, trying to grasp every word.


    "Yes, the changes are considerable," replied a male voice she recognized as that of Professor Veilford teasingly. "The first task, in particular, will surprise the students."


    Valentina held her breath. This was exactly the information she needed.


    "That''s right," Emberfell continued. "The combination of theoretical testing and practical application will throw many people off track."


    "What are you up to?" said an annoyed voice she didn''t recognize. "Don''t make me pull everything out of you!"


    "There will be a hidden practical part," Veilford laughed softly. "The students shouldn''t even realize that they''re in the middle of a practical exam while they''re answering the theoretical questions."


    Valentina''s eyes widened. A hidden practical part? She had to find out more.


    "Exactly," Emberfell agreed. "The assignment will ostensibly focus on the latest theories on Essence resonance. A chance for the students to demonstrate their knowledge but also think innovatively and solve problems."


    "And all this while the Essence patterns around them are being subtly manipulated," added Veilford. "Those who manage to recognize these changes and react to them will have the best chances."


    "That''s really sneaky!" said the voice, which she couldn''t place, with appreciation.


    Valentina could hardly believe what she was hearing. This would be priceless for her preparation!


    The professors continued to discuss specific areas of Essence theory, history and ethics that the exam would focus on. Valentina memorized every detail, taking notes as fast as she could, her heart racing with excitement.


    When the voices finally faded away, Valentina slowly opened her eyes. Her head hurt so badly now that she felt nauseous.


    "That was a lucky shot," whispered Vyxara excitedly. "But you should go to your room and lie down right now ¨C unless you want to throw up all over those books. Ravencroft would kill you."


    Valentina nodded slowly, her hands trembling, but something was nagging at her. "But isn''t it unfair? The others don''t have this information."


    "I don''t think it is," Vyxara said simply. "The others have their advantages, you have yours. That''s only fair."


    Valentina chewed thoughtfully on her lower lip. She had worked hard for this ability and had to accept the pain. Why shouldn''t she use it?


    "Yes," she finally said. "I will make the best of it. I will prepare myself perfectly and win the competition."


    "That''s my girl," Vyxara purred contentedly. "Together, we''ll make this happen."This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Valentina nodded resolutely, gritting her teeth against her headache, and began to look through her notes. She sketched out a detailed study plan based on the information she had overheard.


    "Your ambition is admirable," praised Vyxara. "But don''t forget to rest. An overworked mind is prone to mistakes. Now go to your room, I''m seriously worried about you."


    Valentina nodded with narrowed eyes as she rubbed her temples. When she stood up, she swayed slightly, surprised by her own exhaustion.


    On the way back to her room, she bumped into Crispin, who looked at her with concern. "Val, are you all right? You look as white as a sheet."


    Valentina forced herself to smile. "All good, just learned a lot today, I''m having a slight headache."


    Crispin nodded, his eyes full of sympathy. "Take care of yourself, okay? You''ve been pushing yourself pretty hard lately. Innogen''s worried too!"


    "Don''t worry," Valentina assured him. "I know what I''m doing."


    When she arrived in her room, she dropped onto her bed, exhausted. She could now see colorful patterns in her field of vision ¨C not Essence patterns, but a result of her excruciating headache.


    "Rest now," Vyxara said gently. "Tomorrow, we can continue working on your skills."


    Exhaustion overcame her before she could answer Vyxara. She fell into a deep, restless sleep, populated by dreams full of Essence patterns and whispering voices.


    ~


    In the days that followed, Valentina returned to the library again and again, driven by curiosity and the urge to perfect her new skill. The high bookshelves had almost become her second home.


    That afternoon, she sat in her usual corner, surrounded by open books and notes. But her eyes were closed, her senses completely focused on the Essence around her.


    "Concentrate," Vyxara whispered in her head. "Try to extend your reach."


    Valentina took a deep breath and let her perception slowly glide through the room.


    "...and then I heard one of the janitors say that..." The voice came from a table at the other end of the library. Valentina concentrated harder, and suddenly, she could hear every word clearly.


    A smile flitted across her face. Her range had definitely improved.


    She continued to let her attention wander, jumping from conversation to conversation like an invisible guest again. Here, a group of students were discussing the upcoming Greystone Competition, and there were two people gossiping about their friends'' relationship problems.


    Then she heard a familiar voice. It was Faustus Boarfend, sitting in a far corner with his friends.


    "...my father made sure I got access to the old exam questions," he just boasted. "There are some professors who don''t mind earning a little extra money that way."


    Valentina felt anger rising inside her.


    "See?" muttered Vyxara. "That''s exactly why you shouldn''t be ashamed of using this ability."


    Valentina nodded grimly and concentrated again. She let her perception wander further, testing the limits of her ability.


    To her surprise, she realized that she could not only hear conversations in the library, but when it was very quiet, and she walked close to the wall and concentrated very hard, she could hear even in the adjacent rooms. She heard Professor Emberfell discussing with a colleague in her office and heard the whispers of students in the stairwell.


    The wealth of information was intoxicating. Valentina felt as if she had access to a secret network, an invisible web of words and secrets that ran through the entire university.


    She learned about secret deals, attempts at fraud, and intrigues among the faculty. It was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes and showed her a world full of secrets and hidden motives of which she had had no idea about. She was almost shocked at how naive she had been just a few weeks ago. How had she ever believed that she could succeed here simply by working hard?


    "...have you heard that Professor Veilford is allegedly involved in dubious Essence experiments?" she heard a student whisper.


    "Really? What kind of experiments?" her friend asked excitedly.


    "I don''t know exactly, but it''s supposed to have something to do with forbidden Essence patterns. My cousin works as an assistant in his lab and has seen strange things..."


    Valentina''s eyes widened. This was explosive information. Should she tell someone about it?


    "Be careful," warned Vyxara. "Knowledge is power, but only as long as you keep it to yourself. And don''t forget ¨C people lie. All the time. Just because it was whispered and you overheard it doesn''t mean it''s true. The university is not exactly a village, but there are no less gossips here than back home in Palewood. Would you believe anything they say?"


    Valentina nodded slowly. The demon was right. She had to be careful with what she had heard.


    "This is all unbelievable," she murmured quietly.


    "The more famous and powerful someone is, the more willing people are to say all sorts of things about them," said Vyxara. "You have to weigh up exactly what information is useful and what is just gossip."


    Valentina nodded thoughtfully. She knew she was walking a fine line. The temptation to abuse this power was great. But she was determined to use it well for her goals and triumph in the Greystone Competition.


    Valentina dragged herself back to her room exhausted, each step making her stiff muscles protest. Once she was in the courtyard, her eyes fell on the first floor. The window to Innogen''s room was lit up, and she could make out two silhouettes through the rough glass.


    Curiosity outweighed her tiredness. Valentina stepped closer to the window and concentrated, letting her newly acquired ability take effect. She could hear every word as clearly as if she were standing right next to them.


    "...worries me," she heard Crispin''s voice. "Valentina''s been acting so strange lately."


    Valentina''s heart skipped a beat. They were talking about her.


    "I know," Innogen sighed. "She''s hardly seen anymore, except in the library. And when you talk to her, she seems so absent, as if her mind is somewhere else entirely."


    "Exactly," Crispin agreed. "And have you noticed how she sometimes closes her eyes and just sits there?"


    Valentina froze. Had her friends been so attentive?


    "Yes, I noticed that too," Innogen said thoughtfully. "And then these sudden advances in her studies. Sometimes, it''s almost as if she knew in advance what¡¯s going to come up in the lecture the next day and had prepared herself."


    "Do you think..." Crispin hesitated. "Do you think she might be involved in something?"


    Innogen was silent for a moment. "I don''t know," she finally said. "But I''m worried about her. She''s changed, and I''m not sure why."


    Valentina staggered back as if she had received a blow. Her friends were suspicious. They saw the changes she was going through, and instead of being proud of her progress, they were worried.


    "This is not good," whispered Vyxara in her head. "We need to be more careful."


    "But they''re my friends," Valentina murmured, tears in her eyes. "I didn''t want to worry them or disappoint them." She turned her attention back to the conversation in the other room.


    "What should we do?" Crispin asked just then. "Should we talk to her?"


    Innogen sighed. "I don''t know. I''m afraid if we bring it up to her directly, she''ll just withdraw even more."


    "Maybe we should talk to one of the professors?" suggested Crispin. "Professor Emberfell seems to like her. Maybe she could..."


    "No," Innogen interrupted him firmly. "Absolutely not. We don''t know what''s going on. We can''t get Valentina into trouble just because we''re worried."


    Valentina breathed a sigh of relief, seized by sudden affection for Innogen.


    "You''re right," Crispin admitted. "But then what?"


    "We have to be there for her," Innogen said firmly. "Show her that we''re her friends, no matter what. And hope that she''ll confide in us if there really is something worth confiding."


    Valentina felt tears running down her cheeks. The loyalty of her friends touched her deeply, but at the same time, it increased her feelings of guilt.


    "You should do more with them in the next few days. Take some time for them," Vyxara warned. "They mustn''t become even more suspicious. But under no circumstances should they find out about your new abilities."


    "But they are my friends," whispered Valentina.


    "And they will remain your friends," Vyxara assured her. "If you''re successful, if you win the Greystone Competition and help your family, they''ll see why you spent so much time in the library. They''ll be proud of you."


    Valentina wiped the tears from her eyes. Maybe Vyxara was right. Maybe everything would be all right in the end.


    "What should I do?" she mumbled.


    "Carry on," Vyxara replied gently. "You''re on the right path. Don''t let some doubts stop you now."


    She knew the demon was right. She had invested too much to give up now. Valentina nodded wearily and set foot on the creaky stairs, making her way to her room on the top floor.


    Valentina climbed silently, her steps heavy with the weight of the tiring day. The dim light from the Essence lamps cast flickering shadows on the walls, like lurking figures. As she reached the top of the stairs, she suddenly heard an all too familiar voice.


    "If it isn''t our little peasant girl," mocked Faustus Boarfend, who was leaning against the wall, an arrogant grin on his face.


    Valentina stiffened. "What are you doing here, Faustus?" she asked wearily.


    He pushed himself away from the wall and stepped closer, his eyes glinting dangerously. "I heard that the Decan allowed you to sign up for the Greystone Competition. What did you have to do for that? Did you have to disappear under Valemont''s desk for a while?"


    This disgusting insinuation made Valentina blush, partly with shame and partly with anger. "I just work hard," she pressed out between clenched teeth.


    Faustus laughed humorlessly. "Oh yes, I can see that. Always in the library, always studying. But you know what? It''s not going to do you any good. The Greystone Competition is for people like me, not for..."


    "For people like me?" Valentina interrupted him, suddenly seized by a wave of anger. "For talented Essence Weavers, you mean?"


    Faustus'' eyes narrowed. "Watch out, Valentina," he hissed, every syllable of her name full of venom. "You''re playing a dangerous game. Don''t get in my way, do you hear me? And if you do..."


    He let the threat hang unspoken in the air, pushed her aside with his massive body, and disappeared down the stairs.


    Valentina stood motionless for a moment, her heart hammering in her chest. She could feel Vyxara growing restless in her consciousness.


    "He''s a threat," the demon whispered. "We should do something."


    "No," Valentina mumbled as she unlocked her bedroom door. "Not yet. He''s got nothing in his hand."


    She stepped into her little kingdom and closed the door behind her. The moonlight fell through the window and bathed the room in a ghostly blue. Valentina suddenly felt infinitely tired and strangely detached from everything.


    She dropped onto her narrow bed and stared at the sloping ceiling. The events of the day swirled through her head ¨C the overheard conversations, the worries of her friends, Faustus'' threat. She had gained so much power in the last few days, and yet she felt lonelier than ever.


    "You''re not alone," Vyxara said gently. "I am here. I will always be here."


    Valentina closed her eyes. "I know," she whispered.


    "Let''s not dwell on such dark thoughts," Vyxara purred seductively. "I know something better to distract you."


    Valentina felt a wave of warmth flow through her body. She knew what Vyxara was suggesting. Part of her was ashamed of how much she craved it, but a larger part of her craved the oblivion, the pleasurable satisfaction.


    "Yes," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Please."


    "Good," Vyxara said, her voice like velvet in Valentina''s head. "Close your eyes and just let yourself fall."


    Valentina obeyed, sinking into the pillow. She felt Vyxara''s presence envelop her, warm and enticing in her consciousness. Her hands began to wander over her body as if of their own accord, guided by the lustful fantasies that Vyxara gently whispered into her mind.


    As the first waves of joy rolled through her body, the world around her faded. Forgotten were Faustus'' threats, the worries of her friends, the burden of her secrets. In that moment, there was only her and Vyxara''s seductive voice, fused in a dance of lust and shameless fantasies.


    The moonlight danced over Valentina''s writhing body as she let herself fall deeper and deeper into the sensations. And somewhere in the depths of her mind, Vyxara laughed softly, pleased with her little Weaver''s progress and full of anticipation for the things to come.

 Chapter 27 - The First Round

    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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C a particularly tricky task involving the reversal of Schate-Essence flows ¨C 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 ¨C 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 ¨C 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?"