Quentin nearly exploded when he heard Galvas's declaration during the council meeting. He swore to himself that he would strangle the man the next time they met. His blood was still simmering when Galvas sent him a text on his capsule:

"Hello Q, have some business to attend to. I'm leaving you in charge of the festival planning in the meantime. When meeting with the Blackthorns, please do note their behavior for me. :)"

The Engineer snapped. He crushed his capsule in his fist. It's always one thing or another in this damn place, he thought bitterly. And somehow, I'm always pulled into the fray. He remembered when he was a Junior Pupil, sent to study local Automatons under the head of the Heltrin clan. Even then, Galvas was spoken of as a genius, renowned for creating sophisticated automatons. Quentin cringed remembering how young and naive he had been. Not long after arriving in the port city of Levaridt, he'd been tricked into helping birth one of Koleson's children – a secret he had kept to this day.

He refused to get involved in the family's affairs again. He never asked what became of the child, and he wouldn't be making any notes about the Blackthorns either. I'll do my job and move on, as always, he decided.

Ella delved into the study of dream weaving with a fervor that matched Helletta's prowess in combat. Gelvin observed her progress with a mix of admiration and curiosity. It was almost uncanny how quickly she grasped the complexities of the craft. He had provided both girls with foundational texts detailing the basics of their respective disciplines, hoping they would absorb enough to hold their own.

By the time he returned to the training hall, Ella was eager to demonstrate her newfound knowledge. The room was bathed in the warm glow of lanterns, casting elongated shadows that danced along the stone walls. Helletta sat nearby, leafing half-heartedly through her own tome, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor.

Ella stood before Gelvin, her eyes bright with excitement. "Dreams reside within the subconscious mind," she began, her voice steady. "But they can be accessed and revealed through the eyes, which serve as gateways to manifest them into the waking world."

Gelvin nodded thoughtfully. "And how is a dream woven into reality?"

"There isn't a singular method," Ella explained. "Dreams are typically woven into reality by using tangible objects as effigies to contain their essence—bending those objects to align with the logic of one's dreams."

"Are effigies necessary for the process?" Gelvin inquired, crossing his arms as he leaned against a wooden pillar.

"Not necessarily," Ella replied, shaking her head. "Some can weave dreams into reality purely through willpower. After all, existence is perceived through the same eyes that hold our dreams."

A satisfied smile tugged at the corners of Gelvin's mouth. "Excellent. Now, how does this compare to weaving reflections?"

Ella took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Reflections involve the study of the natural world refracted back into reality. Typically, this is achieved using inscribed crystals."

"What do these crystals contain?" Gelvin prompted.

"Runic equations and chemical notations" she answered confidently. "It's the only way to make reflecting crystals function. To create more complex reflections, you need multiple crystals, each with their own runic inscriptions. These crystals are then arranged so their equations synchronize and solve the problem you wish to reflect. Folding multiple crystals into one another is known as entanglement."

"Brilliant," Gelvin praised, his eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

He continued his questioning. "Are there fundamental differences between weaving reflections and weaving dreams?"

"There are," Ella affirmed, her expression turning contemplative. "But the scholarship on the matter is surprisingly vague, which doesn't lend much confidence to any single theory. Fundamentally, they're taught as distinct practices. Reflections are considered direct interpretations of reality refracted—meaning their complexity is purely analytical. Dream weaving, however, is seen as more arcane, often materializing only when repressed elements of the subconscious seep through. Yet, this distinction blurs upon closer examination."

She glanced at Helletta, who was now listening more intently, before continuing. "Take, for example, the case of Alikora Stennet, a renowned pupil from the weaving classroom. He addressed a common example used to differentiate between the two practices. Suppose one person reflects ice and weaves it into reality, while another dreams of ice and does the same. Conventional wisdom suggests that the reflection would produce a basic, exact replication—no unintended elements. But the dream-weaved ice might manifest with unique, unforeseen characteristics, depending on the weaver's subconscious state. Perhaps ice that not only freezes but also burns simultaneously."

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

Gelvin leaned forward, intrigued. "And what did Alikora do next?"

"Being a reflector himself," Ella continued, "he sought to challenge the notion that such unique manifestations were exclusive to dream weaving. He created a device capable of reflecting ice that could both freeze and burn an object at the same time."

"Impressive," Gelvin remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Me or the pupil?" Ella quipped, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

"Don't get cheeky," Gelvin replied, though his tone was light. He reached out and gently tapped her forehead with two fingers. "Now, what was the scholarly response to his demonstration?"

Ella's expression grew serious. "It caused quite a stir in the cradles—the academic circles. Many saw it as proof that weaving reflections was superior to dream weaving. However, Lady Rooner Sylphora challenged this claim. Among the reflectors, there was a particularly vexing problem they couldn't solve: the equation demonstrating the temporality of lost essence."

"Lost essence?" Gelvin mused.

"Yes," Ella confirmed. "When essence—be it energy, emotion, or some other form—is lost or expended, it leaves behind temporal signatures imprinted across spatial vectors in time. The challenge was to detect and interpret these signatures, essentially allowing one to glimpse into the past—a kind of temporal resonance imaging."

She continued with growing enthusiasm. "Lady Rooner, a junior student who was often underestimated—she attended lessons barefoot, slept through tests, and had been held back three times—imagined a watch capable of detecting and recording these signatures. Her creation upended centuries of scholarship."

"And how did Alikora respond?" Gelvin asked.

"Not well," Ella said wryly. "He dismissed her achievement, claiming she could only accomplish it because she was a Sylphora—a member of the family known for their innate affinity with dream weaving. His argument didn't endear him to the academic community."

Gelvin studied her thoughtfully. "And what did you take away from all this?"

Ella paused, her gaze distant as she considered her response. "What began as a genuine inquiry into the similarities and differences between weaving reflections and weaving dreams devolved into a competition over which was superior. It became less about understanding and more about pride."

"Anything else?" Gelvin prompted gently.

"Well," she continued, "I discovered that Alikora was from a branch of the Fullbright family, while Lady Rooner was indeed a Sylphora. They were also lovers, but their academic rivalry strained their relationship. Their story mirrors that of the gods themselves. Legend has it that Lord Fullbright loved Lady Sylphora, the goddess of dreams. But their love was fraught because his logical mind couldn't fully grasp her ethereal nature. It's both ironic and tragic."

Gelvin chuckled softly, tapping her forehead again. "I didn't ask for a romantic saga."

Ella grinned sheepishly. "Apologies. I suppose I got carried away."

"That's quite all right," he assured her. "So, considering all this, what are your thoughts moving forward? I initially suggested you focus on dream weaving, but many students regret not exploring both disciplines."

Ella drew a deep breath. "I'm a herbalist by trade. Before I lost my family, I helped with our fishing by enhancing the bait—making it more alluring to the fish with special herbs. I also made healing ointments. I believe both disciplines could be beneficial. Dream weaving could enhance my healing abilities, tapping into the subconscious for remedies, while weaving reflections might help in crafting effective lures and traps. Perhaps studying both would serve me best."

Gelvin smiled warmly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You have a good head on your shoulders, Ella. Trust your instincts."

She blushed slightly, brushing his hand away but not unkindly. "Thank you."

"Now," Gelvin announced, turning his gaze toward Helletta, who was inching her way toward the exit, "it's a certain someone's turn."

Helletta froze, one foot already across the threshold. "Oh, look at the time! I should really—"

"Not so fast," Gelvin interjected, his tone equal parts stern and amused. "You're not going anywhere."

She sighed dramatically, slumping her shoulders as she turned back into the room. "Fine," she huffed. "But I warn you, I'm not as good with books as I am with a blade."

"That's precisely why we need to review," Gelvin replied, gesturing for her to join them. "Understanding the theory behind soul essence manipulation is crucial for your development."

Helletta crossed the room with a reluctant gait, plopping down on a cushioned bench beside Ella. "Can't I just learn by doing?"

"To an extent," Gelvin conceded. "But without a foundation in the basics, you'll hit a wall in your progress. Now, tell me what you've learned so far."

She pursed her lips, her eyes darting anywhere but at him. "Well... soul essence is... um... the energy that, you know, fuels our abilities and stuff."

Ella suppressed a giggle, and Gelvin raised an eyebrow. "Care to elaborate?"

Helletta groaned, throwing her hands up in exasperation. "I don't see why I need to know all the fancy words. When I'm fighting, I just... feel it. The energy flows through me, and I act."

Gelvin sighed, though not unkindly. "Feeling is important, but understanding what you're feeling gives you control. It allows you to refine your techniques and push beyond your limits."

She met his gaze stubbornly. "But books make my head hurt. The words jumble together, and I can't make sense of them."

Ella placed a comforting hand on her arm. "Maybe we can find a different approach. Gelvin, could you perhaps explain the concepts in a more... practical way?"

He considered this for a moment. "All right. Helletta, when you're fighting, you mentioned feeling the energy flow. Can you describe that sensation?"

Helletta's expression softened as she thought back. "It's like a warmth that starts in my chest and spreads out to my limbs. It makes me feel stronger, faster. Everything becomes clearer, like I can anticipate my opponent's moves."

"That's your soul essence at work," Gelvin explained. "Now, imagine if you could consciously direct that energy—amplify it, shape it, even infuse it into your surroundings."

Her eyes lit up slightly. "You mean like enhancing my strikes? Or creating barriers?"

"Exactly," he affirmed. "But to do that, you need to understand how your essence interacts with the world around you. That's where the theory comes in."

She nodded slowly. "I guess that makes sense."

"Tell you what," Gelvin offered. "Why don't we combine reading with practical exercises? We'll go through the concepts together, and then apply them in sparring sessions."

A genuine smile spread across Helletta's face. "I can get on board with that."

"Great," he replied, pleased with the compromise. "We'll start tomorrow morning."