The Burning Tower, not only Bridgewater University's Flametower but one of the largest in the kingdom, was filled to capacity. Hundreds of candles and torches bathed the room in a warm, flickering light that was caught in the beautifully woven tapestries. The scent of incense hung heavy in the air, mingling with the soft rustling of robes and the hushed murmur of the assembled students and professors.

  Valentina, Innogen and Crispin found seats in one of the back rows. From here, they had a good view of the imposing altar set up in the center of the circle, within a ceremonial bankreizh. A huge statue of the Martyr was towering above it, his red stone eyes seeming to penetrate every single person present.

  "Oh, how theatrical," Vyxara mocked in Valentina's head. "I bet the real Martyr is thrilled by this pageantry, that insufferable sanctimonious busybody."

  Valentina tried to block out the demon's voice and concentrate on the ceremony that was about to begin. The Scorchpriest stepped forward, his magnificent red, orange and gold robes shimmering in the candlelight.

  "Brothers and sisters," he began in a sonorous voice, "we are gathered here today to honor the greatest sacrifice ever made. Let us hear the Martyr's story together and celebrate his legacy."

  A chorus of voices rose as those gathered began the traditional chant of Martyrdom. Valentina sang along, the familiar words flowing from her lips, but she felt a tinge of doubt in her heart.

  "Go ahead and sing, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered sarcastically. "Maybe you can sing your sins away."

  As the singing died away, the Scorchpriest stepped forward again. His eyes glistened wetly as he began to speak:

  "Almost 1402 years ago, when the world was still young, a brilliant scholar and powerful Essence Weaver discovered a terrible secret. He realized that after death, all souls were drawn into a realm of eternal torment where demons fed on their suffering."

  Valentina felt her stomach tighten. The story of the Martyr, which she had heard so often as a child, now sounded like a cruel parody of her own life.

  Professor Emberfell continued, "The Martyr, filled with compassion for humanity, came up with a bold plan. He summoned the most powerful demon, one of the eleven tyrants of hell, and offered him a deal: He would take upon himself the suffering of all souls who had ever lived in exchange for their salvation in extinction."

  "A rather one-sided deal, if you ask me," Vyxara commented dryly. "But who am I to question the logic of fairy tales?"

  The Scorchpriest continued the story and the ceremony progressed, each part a carefully choreographed performance of light and shadow, song and silence. Valentina watched as students and professors alike sank into reverence and devotion. She wondered if she was the only one harboring doubts.

  When it was time for the ritual lighting of the Martyrium candles, Valentina suddenly felt a gaze on her. She turned her head and saw Professor Horne watching her out of the corner of his eye. His face was a mask of piety, but there was a hunger in his eyes that had nothing to do with spiritual enlightenment.

  "Oh, look," Vyxara giggled, "your lecherous old professor can't take his eyes off you. Looks like he can't wait for your... private devotion tonight after the ceremony?"

  Valentina averted her eyes hastily, her cheeks glowing. She focused on the ceremony again, just in time to hear the Scorchpriest recite the crucial passage of the story:

  "And so the Martyr took upon himself all the suffering of humanity. His body burned in the flames of his sacrifice, but through the suffering of the departed souls he took upon himself, he drew strength and created a refuge in the heart of hell itself. From there, he fights to this day for every soul that dies, offering them the mercy of extinction instead of eternal torment."

  A collective sigh went through the crowd. Valentina saw how some students had tears in their eyes. She herself felt strangely numb.

  "How idiotic it is to celebrate death," scoffed Vyxara. "An eternal struggle for the mercy of non-existence. Really, mankind has strange ideas about happy endings."

  The ceremony was approaching its climax. Everyone present received a small red candle. When the altar servants passed the flame to Valentina, she hesitated for a moment. Was she still worthy to share in the fire of the Martyr?

  "Val? Are you all right?" Crispin whispered worriedly.

  Valentina nodded silently and lit her candle. The small light flickered in her trembling hands.

  The Scorchpriest raised his voice again: "Let us now pray together, for our souls, for the souls of all those who have gone before us, the souls of all those who are yet to go and for the souls of all those whom the Martyr could not protect, who must spend eternity in the torments of hell. May the Martyr's sacrifice never be forgotten, and may his flame show us the way in times of darkness."

  Those gathered bowed their heads in prayer. Valentina closed her eyes, but the words she had spoken so often stuck in her throat.

  "Oh, come on, little Weaver," Vyxara urged with feigned concern. "Won't you pray for forgiveness for your sins? For the forbidden books you stole? For the lies you've told your friends? For the... tutoring sessions with Professor Horne? For the demon in your head that's talking to you right now?"

  Valentina opened her eyes abruptly, her breath quickening. She felt Innogen's worried gaze on her again.

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  When the ceremony finally ended and the crowd slowly dispersed, Valentina felt numb. The celebratory mood that had always prevailed after the Eve of Martyrium simply wouldn't materialize for her this time.

  "That was beautiful, wasn't it?" sighed Innogen as they left the hall. "I always feel so... purified after the ceremony."

  Crispin nodded in agreement. "Yes, it reminds you what we're doing this all for. All the hard work, the studying – it's for a higher purpose."

  Valentina could only manage a weak smile. "Yes, it was... moving."

  She felt a gaze on her again and turned around. Professor Emberfell was standing a few feet away, her eyes resting thoughtfully on Valentina. For a moment, Valentina thought she recognized a hint of worry in the professor's gaze, but then the moment was gone.

  "I... I think I'll go for a walk," Valentina said to her friends. "I need some fresh air to think."

  Innogen and Crispin exchanged a worried glance. "Shall we accompany you?" Crispin asked cautiously.

  Valentina shook her head. "No, thank you. I just want to be alone for a bit. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

  Her friends nodded hesitantly and said goodbye. Valentina watched them walk down the courtyard towards the accommodation, laughing and joking as if all was still right with the world.

  "Alone, eh?" Vyxara purred teasingly. "So it has nothing to do with your appointment with Professor Horne? Are you sure you're not making a little detour to his office?"

  Valentina bit her lip. With one last glance at the emptying courtyard of the university, she made her way to Professor Horne.

  Valentina's footsteps echoed unnaturally loudly as she approached the door to his office. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest that she feared someone might hear it.

  "Calm down, little Weaver," Vyxara whispered, amused. "You're more nervous than your first time with Crispin."

  Valentina shook her head and stopped in front of the wooden door. She took a deep breath and knocked softly.

  "Come in," Professor Horne's voice sounded from inside, muffled but unmistakably pleased.

  She stepped inside and closed the door behind her. The office was bathed in warm candlelight, which cast long shadows on the bookshelves. Professor Horne stood at his desk.

  "Good evening, Professor," Valentina said, her voice barely more than a whisper.

  "Ah, Valentina," he said. "Glad you could make it. I... I thought you might have changed your mind maybe. After the ceremony."

  Valentina stepped closer, sensing the tension between them. "I promised you. And we have an agreement, don't we?"

  A visible shudder ran through Horne's body. "Yes… that we do." He cleared his throat. Professor Horne seemed even more excited this night than the last time. His eyes gleamed in the candlelight as he looked at her expectantly. His furrowed face was flushed and his hands were trembling slightly, so eager to be near her.

  Valentina stepped closer to the desk, her heart pounding in her chest. She felt the familiar tingling mixed with nervousness.

  "Sit down here," said Horne, pointing to a chair right next to the desk.

  Valentina obeyed silently and sat down, her body taut as a bowstring.

  Horne stepped behind her. His fingers gently stroked her shoulders, then he slowly began to open her dress, taking it awkwardly off over her head. He threw it to the floor and she was now sitting in front of him in just her undergarment. She felt the cool air on her skin and shivered.

  Horne let his hands glide over her back, his fingertips tracing her spine at the nape of her neck. Then he suddenly grabbed her braided hair and pulled her head back.

  Valentina gasped, surprised by the sudden movement.

  "You need to learn to control yourself," Horne murmured, his mouth close to her ear, his breath slightly sour. His fingers dug into her hips and pulled her up, out of the chair closer to him.

  Valentina felt his erection through the fabric of his pants and bit her lip. Part of her was shocked, another part...

  "You're a little scared, aren't you?" whispered Horne, his lips brushing her cheek. " No need to. But it's a good thing. It will teach you."

  He pulled her up from the chair, bent her over the desk and pulled up her underdress. Valentina propped herself up on her elbows, her breathing rapid.

  Horne struck, first once, then again and again. "What are you waiting for? Count the blows," Horne ordered. The flat of his palm bounced against her bare buttocks, harder than the last time. Valentina counted the strokes with clenched teeth, the pain burning.

  "Four... Five..." she gasped.

  After the twelfth stroke, Horne paused. His fingers traced the reddened imprints of his hands, then he suddenly slid two of his fingers into the opening between her surprisingly moist folds.

  Valentina flinched, surprised by the sudden invasion. She was briefly tempted to tell Horne that it was too much, that he should stop. But her body reacted involuntarily and she felt her muscles contract around his fingers.

  "He felt that, little Weaver, now he knows," she heard Vyxara's laughing voice whisper in her head.

  Valentina bit her lip to keep from moaning out loud. She couldn't believe it herself, but... it felt good. And she hated herself a little for it.

  Horne began to move his fingers rhythmically back and forth, faster and faster. Valentina felt a tingling sensation in her abdomen, which intensified with every thrust.

  "You're so tight," Horne gasped, his breathing quickening now as well. "I bet you've never felt anything inside you before, have you?"

  "N... no, Professor, never," she lied. Of course she had already sensed something inside her, but she knew that Professor Horne obviously didn't want to hear that, so she told him what he wanted to hear. She tried not to think about Crispin and their night together and her body came to her aid with that. Her thoughts were wiped away, her body solely occupied with the sensations she was experiencing.

  Horne increased the speed of his movements. Valentina felt something building up inside her, a pressure that grew stronger and stronger.

  "Almost there," whispered Vyxara. "Just let yourself go, little Weaver."

  Valentina moaned as the wave rolled over her. Her body jerked uncontrollably and her vagina pulsed around Horne's bony fingers. She came with such intensity that her eyes went black for a moment.

  When the twitching subsided, Horne withdrew his fingers while she still stood bent over his desk with wobbly knees. He rustled briefly behind her and then she was startled for a second when she felt something cool and calming on her bottom.

  "This will help with the bruising," Horne said hoarsely, carefully massaging the balm into Valentina's skin.

  Valentina bit her lip to keep from crying out loud as she felt the cool balm being rubbed onto her burning skin. The balm stung slightly, but it was a pleasant pain. Professor Horne let his fingers glide gently over the reddened skin.

  "You did well," he murmured contentedly as his fingers went over the soft curves of her bottom.

  Valentina let out a shaky breath as she felt her muscles relax under his touch and the burning slowly subsided.

  Horne let his hands glide over the sides of her thighs once more and then pulled her underdress back down, patting her softly on the bottom.

  "I hope I haven't overreached myself too much?" asked Horne, stepping around the desk.

  Valentina shook her head silently as she put her dress back on. What was she supposed to say? That she had enjoyed it? That she felt her body had betrayed her?

  Horne smiled with satisfaction. "Expect another letter from me soon, as promised. I will also send you a small bottle of Distilled Essence. I... can imagine how difficult it must be for you to get enough Distilled Essence."

  Valentina didn't know whether she should be grateful or feel humiliated. But it didn’t matter. She wouldn't say no to Distilled Essence. He kindly led her to the door and opened it for her as they nodded silently goodbye to each other.