Some of the students shifted uncomfortably. Someone finally spoke.
"But, Professor… why didn't you just enter the Dream Realm again to obtain another memory?"
A sharp smile flickered across his face.
"Because luck doesn't strike twice. I made it out alive once, there was no guarantee I would survive the dangers of dream realm again."
But here's where it gets interesting."
He smirked, glancing around the room.
"I spent at least one to two years in that dream. Now, tell me, how much time do you think passed in the real world?"
The students, eager to guess, chimed in.
"Six months!" someone called out.
"Three years!" another shouted.
"Nine months!"
The professor shook his head, his smirk widening.
"Just one month."
A heavy silence settled over the room.
"Surprised? You should be. Each Memory's time flow varies from person to person, it depends on how much they can endure, how much they can learn. That's why we call it a Memory because it is something that can be transferred. But there's a catch."
He let his gaze sweep across the room, ensuring their full attention.
"Memories can only be transferred by an Echo who possesses the Memory of the Forgotten Vault. These individuals have the rare ability to extract and implant memories, turning themselves into living libraries of experience. We call them Memory Archivists, a distinguished division of the Knowledge Keepers and Sages organization.
However, once a memory is transferred, the original owner loses all ability to recall or use it ever again. The most effective way to preserve a memory is through inheritance, passed down to a firstborn child. In such cases, both the parent and the child retain the memory, ensuring its continuity."
He crossed his arms.
"So, remember this whenever you see a Memory Archivist, don't offend them. Don't provoke them. But don't show fear, either. Even they have a limit. A Memory Archivist cannot obtain another Memory for personal use. But what if you offend someone who has connections to a Memory Archivist? Then hand it over willingly because if you resist, things can turn far worse for you.
A Memory Archivist doesn't just take a single echo Memory, they can dig deeper, exploit your past, and uncover secrets you never wanted revealed. They hold full access to your life, your experiences, your very essence."
"If you still haven't grasped the concept of two spirit senses, don't worry, you have an entire month of training ahead. The finest masters from across Zul'vharra will guide you in mastering your shattered aura."
His gaze shifted to the hourglass beside him. It had started running the moment the lecture began, and now, every grain of sand had fallen.
"I know you're eager to learn more about this mystical world, and in time, you will. In fact, 'Echo Memory' wasn't originally part of today's lesson, but seeing your eager faces, I decided to include it."
With that, he turned and left the chamber, leaving students in heavy silence, the weight of their newfound knowledge pressing down on them like an unseen burden.
One by one, they also began to vanish from the chamber, some alone, others in pairs or small groups.
Levi's attention settled on the boy who had arrived late, the one he had beckoned to sit beside him. Lean build, slightly bony. Pale skin, as if he rarely saw the sun. His dark brown hair was tousled, and his gray eyes, though weary, held a quiet sharpness, observing everything keenly.
"Which district are you from?"He said, looking interested in the boy who came from a lower district and had the guts to reply to a prestigious professor. Admitting in front of a crowd that he was illiterate, unable to read or write, yes, there was definitely something special about him.
"So you can decide whether I'm worth speaking to, Your Highness? If I say I'm from the lower districts, you'll pretend you never asked. But if I claim to be from the upper districts, you'll continue the conversation. Either way, I'm not interested." The boy replied bluntly, finishing his sentence as if reading the mind of a typical noble.
After saying that, he stood from his seat without caring about Levi's futher words.
"Where did you learn this sharp tongue?"Levi replied at his back but he didn't respond to his words and disappeared from this class with other students.
"This kid has something precious that's why he's showing tatram and attitude whatever I'm growing more curious in him, he can be useful", then he sake his head noticing something wrong "No,no we could mutual benefit from each other."
After all, he had spent lifetimes using people, shedding that selfish nature would take time. If his heart was black, then perhaps the first speck of white appeared when he protected someone for the first time, his wife, in the dream realm. The more he shielded others without regard for the consequences, the more that darkness would fade. But true transformation could only happen if he embraced the emotions of others, their joys, loves, and tragedies. Without that, he was nothing more than a beast, seeing only his own gain.
He rose from his seat, stepping out of the Arcana Codex and making his way toward his carriage. Behind him, the grand sign of Zul'vharra's Grand Archives loomed in the fading light. As he moved, his eyes once again fell upon the boy.
He was walking along Cinderspire Way, a road named after the ruins of a collapsed smokestack that had left its mark on the district. It stretched from north to south, intersecting with Brassbolt Road, which ran east to west, forming a vital trade artery between Urun'gazi, Thalasiri, and Zul'vharra itself. These roads didn't just divide the city into four distinct districts, they shaped its very structure, with Valcrist District, circular in form, standing at its heart.
With the emergence of the Memory of the Earthsong, a new division of Arcane and Magical Experts was born: the Geomancers. This organization expertise lay in the raw forces of magic, spellcraft, and supernatural manipulation.
Geomancers could shape mountains, split the ground, and channel ley-line energy. Their mastery over the land made the design and construction of cities more precise and efficient. In Zul'vharra, these two roads, Cinderspire Way and Brassbolt Road, held immense significance. They didn't just divide the four districts in a cross-like formation; they were the city's lifeblood.
Lining their paths were the headquarters of powerful Echo Organizations, sprawling industrial zones, massive arenas, and countless other establishments. Anything connected to these roads was, in essence, connected to wealth itself. Athergate Stations, where major airships docked, stood at key points along them, making these roads the first sight any traveler had of Zul'vharra from the outside world.
None of this would have been possible without the efforts of an entire branch of Geomancers, working in unison. It wasn't the work of a single Echo Geomancer, but a grand collaboration that had reshaped the city's very foundation.
From the looks of it, the boy was heading toward the Athergate Station.
Levi stepped into his carriage and glanced at the servant standing before him, the man wore a tailored long coat of fine wool, double-breasted with two silver buttons, and a high collar to guard against the wind and dust. He held the reins of two well-bred horses.
"Move the carriage toward that fragile-looking boy," Levi ordered while gesturing with his hand.
The servant, Veylan, his personal carriage driver, gave a slight nod. His wide-brimmed hat cast a shadow over his face as he flicked the reins, guiding the carriage toward the boy. The sun caught the boy's dark brown hair, making it shimmer as it swayed with his steps.
"Why don't you ride in the carriage?" Levi called out.
The boy neither slowed nor acknowledged him, his pace steady on the carved stone road.
Levi leaned slightly forward. "I'm heading toward the southern gate as well. I can drop you there."
This time, without a word, the boy stepped into the carriage.
Settling into the seat across from Levi, he finally spoke. "If you already knew I was from the lower districts, then why did you bother asking earlier?"
Levi didn't answer. Instead, he gave a calm command:
"Veylan, take us to the Veylmont estate."
"Yes, young master." Veylan responded, his hands steady on the reins, but his thoughts wandered.
"Huh? Remembering my name?" A flicker of surprise crossed his mind. "If I recall, the butler introduced me to him five years ago when he enrolled in the academy. Since then, he's rarely spoken to me. At first, I feared he was dissatisfied with my service. But then I heard the rumors, how he never smiles, how he's cold to everyone. That reassured me."
A faint smile formed on Veylan's lips.
"But remembering a servant's name for five years… that means he's satisfied with my work."
With that thought, he felt a quiet sense of pride.
Levi knew the names of most servants in the household he even recognized many faces in Zul'vharra City, a result of the experiences accumulated over his hundred lifetimes.
The servants of House Veyrathis were not only well-mannered but also highly educated. Serving noble blood demanded nothing less. In all of Zul'vharra, only two noble sovereign families resided, their lineage tracing back to an era long past.