A Blossom of Flames

When Valentina entered the library the next morning, she immediately sensed that something had happened again. The already very subdued atmosphere was now full of nervous tension. Students whispered in the corners, but fell silent abruptly when someone walked past.

"Did you hear that?" A first-year student leaned across the table to his friends. "They arrested another two last night. Essence Weavers from the city."

"If he keeps this up, all the Essence Weavers will leave the city," another muttered worriedly. "The Illuminator has built up a veritable network of informers and someone is constantly being accused of some nonsense."

"Interesting," Vyxara remarked. "He's more thorough than most fanatics of his kind."

Valentina sat down in her usual place, but didn't study, instead activating her Essence Listening to be able to follow the conversations better.

"...arrested him in his own store," whispered a student two tables away. "Master Gelric, the old Essence Weaver from Draper's Lane. He allegedly had forbidden books..."

"And corrupted Essence," her friend added, "They say he laced it with demonic juices."

"Nonsense," snorted the first. "Gelric is an honorable man. He supplies half the Essence Weavers in the city with Distilled Essence."

"Supplied," the other corrected gloomily. "Now he's in the dungeons of the Illumination."

Valentina felt a cold knot form in her stomach. She knew Master Gelric – a kindly old man who at least had the decency to look a little guilty when he turned down the requests of poorer students who couldn't afford his Distilled Essence prices.

A muffled cry caught her attention. At the other end of the library, Matilda Ravencroft had roughly grabbed the ear of a boy who was loitering between the shelves.

"What do you think you're doing?" hissed the librarian.

"I... I just..." The boy – barely older than fourteen – blushed. "The Illuminator told me to..."

"Spy? In my library? Your mother is the cook here, isn't she? She'll hear about this, you can count on it." Matilda's voice was quiet but cutting. "Get out of here. Now."

The boy fled with his head bowed. Matilda looked after him, her lips pressed together in a thin line.

"They recruit the weak and fearful ," Vyxara commented. "Classic tactics. Soon no one will trust anyone else."

Edgar came to Valentina's table, his gaunt face even paler than usual. "It's getting worse," he whispered. "Yesterday they interrogated Martha – the barmaid from the Burning Quill. She had to list all the students who drink there regularly."

"Why?"

"The Illuminator says drunkenness leads to moral weakness." Edgar snorted bitterly. "As if a mug of ale would turn us into demon summoners."

An icy gust of wind swept through the library as the door opened. Two Emberwardens marched in, their burgundy robes soaked by the sleet. The students fell silent immediately.

The guards positioned themselves on either side of the entrance, their hands on the maces on their belts. Their eyes wandered vigilantly around the room.

"They must be looking for banned books again," Edgar muttered.

Valentina nodded silently. Every single day she was grateful that she had hidden her most dangerous books in the forest in time.

In the afternoon, she met Professor Whitehall in the corridor. The usually so composed woman looked exhausted and worried.

"It's getting harder and harder to get herbs and ingredients for medicines," she said quietly to Valentina. "Prices are out of control, and the few remaining merchants hardly dare to sell because the Emberwardens terrorize them regularly." She rubbed her eyes wearily. "We've had the worst of it, but people are still getting sick."

"Can't the university...?"

"Our supplies are almost completely depleted and what's left is rationed." Whitehall's voice turned bitter. "The Illuminator controls the distribution. He says too much medicine will keep people from trusting the Martyr."

An Emberwarden approached, and the conversation quickly fell silent.

That evening, Valentina sat in her cold attic room and stared at her two remaining vials of Distilled Essence. Her hand rested on the bag in which the silver crowns of Zilvenfill weighed heavily. Enough for a few weeks if she used them sparingly. But then?

"You're still thinking about it," Vyxara stated softly.

"It's not an easy decision," Valentina replied quietly, although no one could hear her.

"No, it isn't," the demon agreed. "But what are your alternatives? Sell more of Cosimo's gifts? Drop out of university? Or maybe..." Vyxara deliberately left the thought unfinished.

"I know." Valentina turned away from the window and walked to her narrow bed, where she sat down heavily. "It's just... I never thought... I thought I'd never..."

"Oh, little Weaver," Vyxara's voice was almost motherly. "Do you think you're the first to go this way? Many women have done it before you. Some out of desperation, others out of calculation. Some even with joy."

"I don't know if I can do it," whispered Valentina. "Give myself to strange men."

"You're not giving yourself to them," Vyxara corrected. "These men will never really see you. They will see an illusion, a fantasy. You yourself will be protected, hidden behind a veil of Essence. You will not belong to them."

Valentina was silent for a long time and Vyxara didn't bother her.

"Good," she finally whispered. "I'll do it."

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"I know you, Valentina. I'm sure you won't regret it," Vyxara assured her.

"But on my terms," Valentina emphasized. "I won't let it interfere with my studies."

"Of course not," Vyxara agreed. "Your studies come first. Everything else is just a means to an end."

"And I'm only going to do it until I figure out what the Illuminator is even looking for here, what he wants. If I make friends at Violet Delights, maybe I could ask the courtesan he visits..." She suddenly winced. "Vyxara, what if I have to sleep with him myself?"

"Then you'll get through it, like you've gotten through so much," Vyxara said calmly. "Remember – he wouldn't see you. Just an illusion. A mask. You're stronger than you think, Valentina. You'll keep your dignity."

"You're right," Valentina murmured, trying to calm herself down, even though she still didn't like the idea. "It's better than the alternatives. I need the money. And the information I can gather there..."

"Exactly," Vyxara confirmed. "You can find out what the Illuminator is really looking for. What his true intentions are. Knowledge is power, little Weaver. And that power can protect you."

Valentina nodded slowly. The initial panic gave way to calm determination. "Tomorrow I will go to Madame Dolorosa," she said firmly. "The sooner I start, the better."

"A wise decision," praised Vyxara. "And just always remember – you're doing this for your future. For your freedom."

~

The next evening, Valentina made her way to Violet Delights again. The streets were slippery with slushy snow, and her breath formed little clouds in the cold air. She pulled the hood of her cloak down over her face as she hurried through the dark alleyways.

The same doorman opened the door for her, with a barely noticeable nod of recognition. Inside, the same young woman in a violet dress was waiting for her, greeting her with a warm smile.

"Madame Dolorosa told me that she has always time for you," she said as she took Valentina's coat. "Follow me, please."

This time, she led Valentina into another room – a cozy study with bookshelves on the walls and an ornate dark wood desk. Madame Dolorosa sat behind it, dressed in an elegant dress of dark violet silk.

"Valentina," she greeted her with a smile. "I had hoped so much that you would return."

"I've been thinking about your offer," Valentina said without hesitation.

"And come to a decision, I see." Madame Dolorosa's violet eyes sparkled in the light of the lamps. "Why don't you sit down?"

Valentina took a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs in front of the desk.

"Before I agree," Valentina began slowly, "we need to clarify the conditions."

"Of course." Madame Dolorosa folded her slender fingers under her chin. "What do you have in mind?"

"My studies take priority," Valentina said firmly. "I can't be here more than two evenings a week."

"That could be arranged." Madame Dolorosa leaned back in her chair. "Monday and Thursday, perhaps? Those are our quieter evenings – ideal for a beginner."

"That would suit." Valentina felt some of the tension fall away from her. "And what about... the customers? What… what options do I have there?"

"As I mentioned before – we are very selective. Men of class and education, discreet and respectful." Madame Dolorosa made an elegant gesture with her hand. "But let me make something clear, Valentina. We don't force anyone to accept a client she finds repulsive. If a guest makes you uncomfortable, you can refuse."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that." Madame Dolorosa smiled thinly. "However... this is a business. If you refuse a customer, you can never return, Valentina. Do you understand?"

Valentina understood the subtle pressure behind these words. Of course Madame Dolorosa wouldn't force any of her girls to do anything, she was far too civilized for that. But also the choice she gave them wasn't really one.

"I understand," she said quietly.

"Given your... arrangement with the duke, am I right in assuming that you know how to prevent pregnancy? Or do you need help with that?"

"No need, I'll take care of it myself."

"Excellent." Madame Dolorosa opened a drawer of her desk and pulled out a thin book. "Now for the practical things. All our employees are listed in this book – under pseudonyms, of course." She turned to a blank page. "What would you like to be called while you're here?"

Valentina hadn't thought about it. "I... I don't know."

"Hmm. Let me think..." Madame Dolorosa tapped a long, slender finger against her lips. "What do you think of 'Rosalind'?"

Valentina winced. The duchess's name? That couldn't be a coincidence.

"I see you don't like the suggestion." Madame Dolorosa smiled cat-like. "Perhaps 'Lily'? Simple, elegant, innocent."

"Lily's all right," Valentina agreed, relieved at the change.

Madame Dolorosa noted the name in her book. "Now for the payment. As I mentioned before – the sum is generous." She named the amount again, which made Valentina's stomach flutter. "Per evening, payable at the end of each week. The more clients you receive in a night, the higher the sum."

"That sounds... fair," Valentina said, although the word hardly seemed appropriate for an amount that would solve her financial problems in a relatively short time.

"Excellent." Madame Dolorosa closed the book and put it aside. "Then there's just one question left: when would you like to start?"

"As soon as possible," Valentina replied without hesitation. Her two remaining vials of Distilled Essence wouldn't last forever.

"Then we'll say next Monday?" Madame Dolorosa stood up and held out her hand. "Come over the sewing store at six. We'll need an hour to get you ready before the first guests arrive."

Valentina also stood up and took the offered hand. Madame Dolorosa's grip was exceptionally firm and warm.

"Welcome to Violet Delights, Lily," she said with a satisfied smile. "I'm sure we'll work wonderfully together."

Later, as Valentina walked through the snow-covered streets back to the university, she struggled with conflicting feelings. One part of her was shocked by her decision, another strangely relieved – as if she finally had a clear path ahead of her.

"You made the right decision," Vyxara assured her. "Remember – it's just a means to an end. A temporary solution while you complete your studies."

"Yes," Valentina thought as she passed through the university gates and allowed herself to be searched by a suspicious-looking but thankfully not too intrusive Emberwarden. "Just a means to an end."

But deep inside her, she felt something else – a vague, unexpected curiosity. A quiet anticipation of this other world, this secret life she would now lead. The power that lay in the transformation. The freedom to be someone else.

"Don't let it tempt you too much," Vyxara warned. "But of course, I'm the last person who would object to having a bit of fun."

"I'll be careful," Valentina assured her. But when she returned to her cold attic room, she wondered if she had already started lying to herself.