Eastwald lay relaxed on the bed, half his body covered by a sheet, the skin of his back covered in scourge marks, but he really was a changed man – the stern, ascetic mask had given way to an almost boyish relaxation.

"More wine," he demanded, holding out his goblet to Valentina. She poured generously.

"And the dried fruit," he added. "The sweet ones – yes, exactly those."

Valentina took a candied fig and held it to his lips, giggling playfully. He bit into it with relish, syrup dripping down on his chin.

"Mmh," he murmured and let his hand slap her bare bottom, gripping it tightly. "I'm going to miss this when my work here is done."

In her ears, Valentina heard the pounding of her heart. This was her chance.

"You're going to leave us?" she asked with the perfect blend of regret and naivety in her voice.

"Sometime soon." He took another sip of wine. "As soon as I've sorted out this matter at the university."

"Careful now," warned Vyxara. "Don't ask too directly."

"It must be a difficult matter," Valentina said softly as she handed him another fig. "If it keeps a man as important as you here for so long."

Eastwald smiled flattered. The wine had reddened his cheeks.

"Oh yes," he said with undisguised smugness. "Very difficult and very important. We were alerted to... suspicious traces in the Essence streams of the University. Corrupt Essence." He paused dramatically. "Signs of demonic influence."

Valentina winced. "How awful," she breathed. "Demons? Here in Bridgewater? But surely that's a mistake!"

"No, no." Eastwald shook his head. His eyes shone with eagerness. "The signs are clear. We've already narrowed down the area. It's only a matter of time now." He reached for another candied fruit. "Soon we'll find the source."

"But how can something like this even happen?" Valentina asked innocently. "I thought the university was protected..."

"Ah!" Eastwald straightened up, obviously in his element. "That's the most fascinating thing about it. Demons... they're so incredibly patient. So subtle in their approach." His voice took on a strangely admiring tone. "They plant tiny seeds of corruption that grow over decades, sometimes centuries, into a large tree of evil."

He took another deep sip of wine. "In fact, I suspect that our current case is related to an older incident 50 years ago."

Valentina didn't dare breathing. "What happened back then?"

"Oh, those were dark times." Eastwald waved her off. "Don't worry your pretty little head about it. But it shows the pattern – a little spark of demonic corruption that smolders for decades until it suddenly bursts into bright flames." He smiled grimly. "But this time we'll nip it in the bud."

"We'll see," muttered Vyxara. "We'll see..."

"The people here in Bridgewater should be grateful to you," Valentina purred, gently stroking his scarred cheek. "For your protection and your tireless work against evil..."

"Indeed, they should." He grasped her hand. "You know, sometimes I think few understand the true nature of evil as well as I do. Its beauty. Its seductive power." He kissed her fingertips. "Its subtle ways of sneaking into our souls."

His gaze became feverish. "Only those who truly understand evil can plunge into depravity and yet emerge unspoiled. Just as we have given ourselves over to sin. The sweetest of all sins..."

Corrupted Essence in the streams of the university. This had to be the result of her breaking into Faustus's room when she manipulated the Eye of Deceit and momentarily lost control of the corrupted Essence. But what had happened 50 years ago? She had to find out more.

She had to go to the university library archives. If she was going to find out more anywhere, it would be in the old records there. She simply had to find them.

~

"Okay, I'll let you in there, but you must finish before dusk or we'll both be in trouble with the Illumination," she warned the librarian Matilda Ravencroft sternly. "And don't touch anything without gloves." She pointed to a pair of worn leather gloves lying on a reading desk.

Valentina pulled on her gloves and methodically searched the shelves. The books and old documents in the archive of the restricted area of the library were different from the rest of the library – many were chained and sealed with complicated and malevolent Essence patterns.

"Be careful, look for hidden patterns ," Vyxara warned. "Some of these old texts have... surprises for overly curious readers. The old masters often had a very direct understanding of security."

Valentina systematically worked her way through the narrow aisles. The old wooden shelves were covered in a thick layer of dust, and her footsteps left clear marks on the floor. She could hear some barely audible Essence pattern that was probably securing one of the books, a subliminal whirring that tugged at her nerves.

After an hour of increasingly frustrating searching, she finally found the right section: 'Incidents and Investigations'. The records were in chronological order, but many volumes were missing entirely, while others showed clear signs of deliberate damage – pages torn out, entire sections obliterated in black ink, or fire damage.

She methodically worked through the records. Her gloved fingers glided over the spines of the books as she combed through dates and references. When the records from fifty years ago proved unfruitful, she extended her search to the surrounding years. The work was tedious, but she forced herself to concentrate.

"1356," she murmured softly and carefully pulled out the next tome. The leather of the cover was burnt in several places, as if someone had tried to destroy the book.

The first document she found was a transcript of a yellowed report from a Grand Illuminator to the Scorchbishop of Vandercourt. The ink had faded in many places, and entire sections had been blacked out. But what she could read made her blood run cold.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

"... a cult led by Professor Sapolder... Attempts to open a permanent connection to the infernal realm..."

She found an interrogation protocol that caught her attention. A student named Thalia Reed described the events under torture:

"... Thereon Gladder... Thereon Gladder has the book..."

With growing excitement, Valentina hastily turned the pages. Gladder's name kept popping up – a brilliant third-year student, Sapolder's right-hand man, exceptional talent in Essence Weaving. And then, in a partially scorched report: "... Gladder managed to escape... Possibly possessed by the demon [Redacted] ... Extreme caution advised..."

She quickly did the math. If Gladder was in his third year then, he should be in his late sixties now. Just like the old gardener. She felt a shiver run down her spine. Could it be?

Another document caught her attention – records of the cult's experiments and activities at the university. "Experimented with animals... cats in particular showed increased susceptibility to demonic influences... especially black specimens seem..."

The black cat. The cat that had run into her summoning circle. The cat that had ruined the ritual and was to blame for the fact that she and Vyxara were now bound. Had that really been a coincidence? Or was the gardener behind it?

"Hurry up," Ravencroft hissed from the doorway. "The sun will be setting soon and I have no idea when the Emberwardens' patrol will arrive."

Valentina was just about to turn the page when she heard voices in the corridor. The sound of heavy boots on stone, the clink of weapons.

"... complete search of all areas... yes even the back areas... I don't care that it's dusty there, you heard the Illuminator..."

With trembling hands, Valentina pushed the documents back onto the shelf. She only kept the interrogation protocol – it was small enough to hide in her sleeve.

The voices were now right outside the door. Valentina scurried to the back exit of the library, her heart beating so loudly that she feared it could be heard.

"Left ," Vyxara commanded in her head. "The shadow of the shelf will hide you."

She made it into the shadows just in time as the door opened. An Emberwarden lazily shone a small Essence lamp into the room without actually going in to look.

"There's no one here," he said to his colleagues, coughing.

"Continue to the next area," another voice ordered.

Valentina waited until they had gone, then she slipped out of her hiding place. Her head was buzzing with what she had read. The connections between the events began to form – the gardener, the cat, the old experiments... but what was the target? The gardener had to be Gladder. And he had also given Faustus the Eye of Deceit. But what was he planning?

She had to have answers. And she knew where to start.

"Vyxara," she thought as she hurriedly left the library. "You know more about this, don't you? You know who he is. What really happened back then. Now talk to me, damn it."

But Vyxara remained silent.

~

In her attic room, Valentina spread her notes out in front of her. The only source of light was her small oil lamp, whose warm glow danced over the yellowed interrogation protocol she had taken from the library.

She had listed the most important events on a piece of parchment in chronological order and pondered over them:

1356 – The cult at the university. Professor Sapolder and his followers. The failed attempt to summon a demon. The explosion in the crypts. Gladder's escape.

And then – decades later – a seemingly harmless old gardener at the university. Who had been kind to her, had given her good advice. Who often had a black cat nearby. Who had given Faustus the Eye of Deceit, which he had then used against Valentina in the Greystone Competition. Who always seemed to be in the right place at the right time.

The black cat that had run into her summoning circle. Who had sabotaged her attempt to bind a demon to an object and caused Vyxara to be bound to Valentina instead.

"You know, don't you?" she said aloud into the silence of the room. "You know who he is. What really happened back then."

No answer.

"This persistent silence is pathetic, Vyxara," Valentina continued angrily as she stood up and paced restlessly. "After everything we've been through together..."

She felt the demon's presence in her mind – tense, waiting. But not a word.

"I've confided everything to you," Valentina said quietly. "You know everything. My darkest secrets. My fears. My shame. My fantasies. I dared to trust you, even though any sane person would have advised me not to trust a demon."

"I know ," came Vyxara's voice at last. "And I-"

"No!" Valentina interrupted her sharply. "No excuses. No vague hints. No evasive answers." She clenched her fists. "I want the truth. Now."

"You don't understand."

"Oh yes, I understand a lot." Valentina stepped to the window. The Burning Tower glowed in the night sky. "The gardener is Gladder, isn't he? The brilliant student who disappeared fifty years ago. The only one who escaped back then."

Vyxara fell silent again, but Valentina felt a slight tingling in her mind – as if the demon was squirming.

"And the cat was no coincidence," she continued. "It was part of his plan. Just like the Eye of Deceit he gave Faustus. It's all connected. The only question is – how? Are you working with them?"

Still, silence.

A soft rustling made her move around. A black shadow flitted past outside her window. Was that...? No, that was impossible. They were almost directly under the roof, the cat couldn't possibly come up here. It had probably been a bat.

"Talk to me, Vyxara," she said urgently. "Whatever it is – I can handle it. But this secrecy has to stop."

Seconds passed by.

"I'm sorry ," Vyxara whispered softly. "But I can't. The rules-"

"The rules?" Valentina laughed bitterly. "Since when do you care about rules?"

"Since they are part of our pact ," Vyxara replied seriously. "You set the terms yourself, remember? No communication with-"

Outside the rustling again. Vyxara fell silent. Valentina froze. "What?"

But Vyxara had stopped communicating again.

"Damn it!" Valentina slammed her flat hand against the wall. The stinging pain felt good – real, tangible, unlike these nebulous hints and secrets.

The demon inside her seemed to be struggling with itself.

"Tell me the truth about Thereon Gladder," Valentina demanded one last time. "What aren't you telling me? What was that about rules?"

Then she heard noise outside. No rustling this time. But an enormous commotion.

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