The night was anything but restful. Whenever I closed my eyes, I saw my own essence. The small sphere of stagnant water, deaf to my pleas, while my sister's blood stained the immaculate snow.

When the distant sanctuary bell chimed seven in the morning, I was already on my feet. I adjusted my training dress and threw the heavy black and crimson cloak over my shoulders. The smell of wool and cold metal didn't feel so alien anymore; it was seeping deeper into me.

I faced the mirror, my ponytail tied up again, though messier. I stared at my neutral reflection; the black and white training dress—complete with belt, boots, and gloves—felt comfortable. Sunlight shone through the window, reflecting off the glass.

I left the room, locking the door behind me, and found Yae in the hallway. She was waiting for me, wearing the most closed-off version of her cloak, perfectly hiding her bandaged left arm. Her sharp, pale eyes were fixed on the stone wall, dark and distant. The girl happily catching snowflakes yesterday seemed buried beneath the ice of this city.

"How's the shoulder?" I asked, approaching slowly.

"Functional," she replied dryly, avoiding my eyes. "It won't slow me down."

"Don't be so hard on yourself, okay?" I pleaded, stepping a little closer.

Yae didn't say anything. She just looked at me and said: "Let's go. It's almost time."

We walked side by side. The hallway soon warped briefly, giving me a slight wave of dizziness as we neared the inner courtyard. The morning cold was relentless, slicing the air like razors.

In the frosted courtyard stood a man with hands clasped behind his back. He had crimson eyes, a scar across his right eye, and brown hair so dark it looked black. He waited in silence, looking more like a statue than a man.

"Punctual. That's a positive," he said as our footsteps echoed on the stone, his calm voice cutting through the freezing wind. "I was told you have potential, but lack knowledge and foundations."

He turned to face us, and under those intense red eyes, I felt like he was dissecting every single one of our fears.

"I heard you were attacked by the Red Glove yesterday, and mounted a miserable pursuit," he continued, pacing around us. "The chase was exhausting because you know nothing."

"We were ambushed," Yae retorted, repressed anger boiling in her voice.

"You were complacent," the Teacher corrected, stopping behind her with a ghostly presence. "You don't know how Essence and Mana work. You don't understand the natural law and the predatory cycle. Here, you are prey. If you want to survive, if you want the power to crush the tyrants and the Revolutionaries who attacked you... you need to fill your cup."

He raised his hand, pointing to a set of targets and training structures made of hardwood and black iron at the far end of the courtyard.

"A mortal acts on instinct, and instinct fails when the body tires. A perfect Tears of Hollows assassin acts like a thinking mannequin."

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the cold air.

"What is a thinking mannequin?" I asked, feeling a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

"A body that feels no pain, that does not hesitate, and that does not question orders. A hollow structure stripped of feelings, yet housing a mind sharp enough to predict the future," he explained, turning to Yae. "Your pain yesterday was a gift. It showed you your flaws. Today, we begin cutting away the arrogance that makes you weak."

He stepped away, positioning himself to begin his teachings.

"Tell me, what do you know about essence?" he asked.

"Essence is the energy we utilize to use our powers," Yae answered promptly.

"No. Essence is the vital cycle of life," he corrected. "But before I explain the difference, I must explain the foundation."

He took a few steps back and picked up a yellow flower inside a glass container.

"It all starts with sunlight. Plants, algae, and certain bacteria are the producers. Through photosynthesis, they convert light energy into chemical energy. In other words, plants are the foundation of almost all life in Primitia. Without them, the sun's energy would remain 'loose,' without animals being able to process it. The energy then passes to the other levels, which we call Primary, Secondary, and Tertiary Consumers."

"We know that part. The sun's energy is transmitted to the plants. Herbivorous animals that consume them absorb about ten percent. Then, a carnivorous animal that eats the herbivore absorbs whatever is left of that ten percent, and so on," Yae interrupted, restless.

"Exactly. But to absorb magical essence efficiently, you need to extract the energy directly from the environment. If you expect to consume it solely through a normal diet, you will have far less essence than most, and rarely enough to use your powers," he explained, pointing the flower at us.

The flower, previously alive and colorful, began to wither in his hands. The petals turned black, dried up, and the plant died completely, crumbling away.

"It died..." I muttered, surprised.

"Absorbing too much essence kills what is around you. It can even kill other living beings, although that is a slower process. Most of the time, the environmental impact is immediately visible in plants," he elaborated, crushing the dead flower.

"That's why I was able to temporarily use my powers when I fought your men in the forest!" Yae exclaimed, her eyes shining with realization.

"Exactly," he nodded. The Teacher faced us and continued. "Essence is only used for magics you possess through heritage or biology. Mana, on the other hand, is used for magics that can be learned—universal spells anyone with aptitude can master."

"So, Mana acts as a specific reservoir for common spells?" I deduced.

The Teacher looked at me. Through his cold expression, I noticed a subtle shift of apparent satisfaction.

"Exactly. You can convert your Essence into Mana. And, in fact, I highly recommend you do. Your Essence is your body's direct vital energy. That is why, when you spend a lot of Essence, you feel exhausted, sick, and weak."

"Like what happened to Ahria!" I exclaimed.

"I don't know her, but I'll take your word for it," he nodded. "Mana is exclusively for casting spells. It is stored to be used only when you want it. It is safer because, unlike Essence, Mana is not continuously spent to keep your organs functioning."

"And can we convert Mana back into Essence?" Yae asked.

"Yes. But, on the downside, Mana is extremely revealing. Almost anyone mildly sensitive to magic can feel the Mana stored in someone's body. That ends up being a brutal disadvantage for the Tears of Hollows, considering we operate in silence and shadows," he explained, picking up two new flowers.

"I have a question," Yae said resolutely.

"Speak, Yae," he nodded, handing a living flower to each of us.

"What happens if we absorb and hold onto an amount of Essence far greater than what our body requires?"

"It depends on your race and biology. But, in most cases, your physical aptitudes, speed, and flexibility increase drastically. Your cells reproduce faster, accelerating regeneration. A wound that would take five days to heal, with the right excess of Essence, would take three or four hours."

"So that was it... that girl was so fluid and fast because her body was loaded with essence boosting her capabilities," Yae murmured.

"Well... you saw what I did to the flower? I want you to do the exact same thing. Absorb the essence of the flower," the Teacher said, giving us space.

I looked at the small yellow flower resting in my gloved hand. Its petals were fragile, vibrant, and the stem still held the freshness of the earth. In Hyperion, we protected and nurtured life; we never stole it. But I wasn't in Hyperion anymore. The fresh scar on my pride and the bandage on my sister's shoulder were cruel reminders.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.

First, I searched within myself. The small sphere of stagnant water was still there, dormant. Next, I expanded my perception beyond the glove, focusing on the flower. At first, I felt nothing. But then, I forced my will. I thought of the relentless cold, the heaviness of my body, and the sheer need to survive.

It was like opening a floodgate.

I felt a tiny, almost imperceptible thread of energy pulsing from the flower. It was different from my water magic; it was raw, earthly, and warm. I pictured my own essence as an empty abyss and pulled that thread toward me.

The sensation was immediate and disturbing. A strange, tingling heat rose through my fingers, creeping up my forearm and spreading through my veins like a sweet poison. The flower's energy didn't flow peacefully to me; it was ripped away. My body, accustomed to divine essence, reacted with a subtle spasm as it swallowed Primitia's life. I felt my feline pupils dilate for a fraction of a second, an unnatural wave of vitality forcing my muscles to become more awake, more tense.

But, along with the power, came the guilt. The energy entering me had an invisible taste of ash and decay. I felt the flower's moisture vanish beneath my touch, as if I were a parasite draining its blood.

When I opened my eyes, the flower was no longer yellow. The edges of the petals were dry, twisted, and a sickly brown. The stem hung limp and brittle. I hadn't destroyed it completely like the Teacher had, but I had robbed its life. It was one breath away from crumbling to dust.

My heart beat a little faster, fueled by a strength that wasn't mine.

"You hesitated," the Teacher's voice cut through the air, icy and sharp. He was looking straight at my hands. "You extracted enough to feel lighter, but you stopped before consuming the root. You felt pity for the conduit. Pity, Deep Water, is an anchor that will drag you to the bottom."

I looked to the side. Yae had her eyes closed, teeth slightly gritted, breathing controlled. In her palm, there was no flower, only a small pile of gray dust that the wind began to scatter. She had absorbed everything without hesitation, feeding her desire for strength.

"She understood," the Teacher said, nodding at Yae. Then, he turned his red eyes back to me. "If you are not willing to empty the cup of others, yours will always be empty. Try again. And this time, kill the hesitation before you kill the plant."

The Teacher stepped forward, offering a new yellow flower. Fresh and perfectly alive.

"Again," he ordered, his tone relentless. "And this time, kill the plant. Empty the cup to the very end."

With a trembling hand, I accepted it. The green stem brushed my fingers, and my mind traveled back to Hyperion. I remembered the water, my magic that existed to nourish and heal. Water never destroyed out of malice; water gave life.

But I was in the biting cold of Primitia, with a direct order from an assassin.

I squeezed my eyes shut, clenching my jaw, and forced my mind to connect with the plant's energy. I pulled. The raw energy surged up my arm once more, that tingling heat accelerating my blood.

But the guilt hit me like a black tide. I felt the life draining from that small, innocent being. It wasn't a bloodthirsty dragon or a human tyrant; it was just a flower. It was pure life, fighting to exist, and I was stealing it. The taste of ash in my mouth grew unbearable.

The subtle sound of the petals cracking beneath my glove echoed in my mind like a silent scream of agony.

I couldn't do it. I simply couldn't be that.

"No..." I sobbed, snapping my eyes open.

I broke the connection immediately. The flower, its petals now wrinkled and brown, slipped from my hand and fell to the frost-covered stone.

Tears, hot and salty, betrayed me. They flowed freely down my cold face, burning my skin. My legs gave out under the weight of crushing guilt, and I dropped to my knees on the hard stone, panting. My chest burned. I felt like a monster. A fraud. How could I save Primitia if my first instinct was to kill innocence?

"Neiva..." Yae's voice cut the air, stripped of all the anger she carried moments before.

I heard the rushed rustle of her cloak. Yae threw herself to the ground beside me, ignoring the stab of pain in her shoulder. Her arms wrapped around me instantly. The smell of damp wool, cold, and dried blood washed over me as she pulled me tight. She pressed her forehead against mine, hiding my weeping face from our tutor's gaze.

"It's okay. Breathe. I'm here," Yae whispered, stroking the back of my head with desperate tenderness.

The Teacher did not move to help. He remained standing, his tall, dark figure casting a long shadow over us, observing the scene like a crow studying a carcass.

"Crying over a flower that was destined to die tomorrow from the frost anyway..." he commented, his voice stripped of empathy. "That is the fatal flaw of people like you. You see beauty in innocence, Deep Water. But innocence, in Primitia, is merely an invitation to the slaughter."

He took a slow step around us, his boots crushing the dying flower against the stone, grinding it into dust.

"If you cannot bear the weight of killing a simple flower to ensure your own survival, how do you expect to kill the monsters that want to devour you? How do you expect to destroy the men who act out of malice?" His voice dropped, coming dangerously close. "That moral weakness of yours will cost you your life. Or worse... it will cost your sister's life, when she has to sacrifice herself because you hesitated to get your hands dirty."