Elden stood in the center of Gertrude's study, eyes closed in intense concentration. The room around him seemed to blur and fade, replaced by vivid scenes from moments ago—Gertrude demonstrating a complex weave of emotion and memory magic.

As Elden summoned his magic, his fingers traced delicate patterns in the air, mimicking the motions he had witnessed. The spell began to take shape, its structure delicate and complex, yet entirely within his grasp. He sensed the familiar ebb and flow of magic, the merging of his father's "Perfect Recall" technique with the emotional resonance Gertrude had taught him to harness.

A shimmering construct materialized before him, and with it, a surge of pride and wonder filled his chest. It was an exact replica of the emotional state he had sensed from a passing Empath earlier that day—an achievement that not long ago would have seemed impossible. He marveled at the intricacy of the spell, how it captured the fleeting, intangible essence of emotion, solidifying it into something almost tangible.

Lowering his hands, Elden took a deep breath, allowing the magical construct to dissipate. The effort left him slightly winded, a reminder that despite his progress, he still had much to learn. He opened his eyes, blinking as they readjusted to the warm, golden light filtering through the study's stained-glass windows.

Elden's gaze was drawn to his father's legacy tome, Echoes of Time and Memory, resting on the ornate desk. The leather-bound book seemed to pulse with its own quiet energy, a reservoir of knowledge waiting to be unlocked. It was more than just a book to Elden—it was a connection to his father, a guide through the labyrinth of his own potential. He approached it with reverence, his fingers tracing the embossed patterns on the cover, feeling the weight of the history contained within.

He flipped through the pages, each one a testament to his father's brilliance, until he reached the final entry. The spell described there was deceptively simple: "Instantly recreate any spell witnessed firsthand, drawing upon the caster's own magical reserves. Once." The words were a challenge, daring him to reach beyond his current limits.

But as he read the entry again, a frown creased his brow. He had tried this spell before, using the memories stored in his father's artifacts—vivid recordings of Edward's unique combat memory magics. Yet each attempt had ended in failure. The spell refused to activate, as if mocking his efforts. It was only now, standing in the aftermath of his recent success, that he began to understand why. The spell didn't draw on memories stored in objects or relics; it required something more—a genuine, lived experience, something that resonated with the caster on a deeply personal level.

A sharp knock at the door startled him from his thoughts. Gertrude's voice called out from the hallway, tinged with an unusual urgency. "Elden, dear? Could you come out here, please? We have a visitor."

The sense of calm he had cultivated shattered, replaced by a growing curiosity. Who could it be, to make Gertrude sound so unlike herself? Elden closed the tome gently, as if sealing away the thoughts it had provoked, and made his way to the receiving room.

There, he found Gertrude standing in the doorway, engaged in a hushed conversation with a woman he had never seen before. The newcomer was striking, with an air of quiet intensity that immediately set her apart. Her presence filled the room, despite the fact that she spoke in low, measured tones. Elden could sense the undercurrent of unease that radiated from her, a barely contained storm of emotion that belied her calm exterior.

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Gertrude turned, a tight smile on her face. "Ah, Elden. Allow me to introduce Equinox, a fellow member of the Empath Council."

Equinox inclined her head slightly, her gaze appraising him with an intensity that made his skin prickle. "So, this is the young Vortis I've heard so much about. A pleasure to meet you at last."

Elden returned the greeting, acutely aware of the subtle tension in the room. "The pleasure is mine, Council Member Equinox. I hope I'm not interrupting anything important?"

"Not at all," Gertrude assured him, though her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "In fact, Equinox brings news that may be of great interest to you."

Equinox nodded, her expression growing more serious. "I've come to report on the worsening temporal anomalies plaguing our outlying villages. The situation has become... dire."

Elden felt a knot form in his stomach. "Yes, the relief delegations," he said, recalling his first encounter with the Empaths upon arriving in Empyrea. "Have things gotten worse?"

Gertrude sighed, a sound heavy with concern. "I'm afraid so. We've been doing our best to manage the anomalies, but they're growing in both frequency and intensity."

Equinox's voice dropped to a grave whisper as she spoke, the weight of the situation evident in her tone. "There's one case in particular that defies explanation," she began, her words slow and deliberate. "A village near the Empatheum—Heartwood town, as we call it—has become ensnared in a time loop. It's like the very fabric of time itself has frayed and twisted around this place."

Elden's eyes widened in shock. "A time loop? You mean—"

"Yes," Equinox interrupted, her gaze intense as she locked eyes with him. "The villagers, and anyone who dares to enter the area, are forced to relive the same day over and over again. It's as if time has forgotten how to move forward there, trapped in a relentless cycle of repetition. No matter what we do, the sun rises, and the day begins anew—identical to the last in every minute detail."

Gertrude, standing beside her, added, "It's unlike anything we've ever encountered," her voice carrying a mix of fascination and dread. "The effects are... unnerving. People inside the loop aren't aware of the repetition—they believe they're living out a normal day. But those of us who stand on the outside, watching, know the truth. We've seen it unfold too many times to count."

"We've tried everything," Equinox continued, the frustration in her voice sharpening. "Emotion magic, law magic—every technique we've mastered. We've even attempted to physically remove people from the affected area, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the loop was anchored to the land itself. But it's as if the loop is a sentient thing, refusing to let go. The moment anyone crosses the village's boundary, they're drawn back in, their memories reset like the turn of a clock's hands. It's maddening."

Her expression darkened as she added, "The village is cut off from reality as we know it, suspended in a bubble of time that refuses to burst. Every attempt we've made to break the cycle has failed. It's as if time itself is at war with us, and it's winning."

Gertrude turned to Elden, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of hope and worry. "Given your unique abilities, Elden, and the progress you've made... I wonder if you might be willing to investigate this anomaly."

Elden felt a surge of determination. "I'll do it," he said, his voice firm. "If there's even a chance I can use my magic to help those people, I have to try."

Relief washed over Gertrude's face, though Equinox remained impassive, her gaze still fixed on Elden. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if she were weighing something invisible between them, measuring his resolve. After a long moment, she gave a small, approving nod. "Very well," she finally said, her tone carrying a note of finality. "We’ll make the necessary arrangements."