Our first lesson was deceptively simple. Violet led me to a small, clear pool of water, its surface shimmering with internal light. "Observe the water, Cassandra," she instructed, her voice calm. "Feel its essence. Its flow. Its stillness. Now, speak a single word. 'Still.'"
I stared at the water. It was perfectly still already, reflecting the glowing trees like a mirror. "You want me to make still water… more still?" I raised an eyebrow. "Is this a trick? Because my brain is still processing the fact that I'm in a magical forest and not, you know, my very normal, very exploded apartment."
"It is about precision, Cassandra," Violet said patiently. "About focusing your intent on the smallest, most controlled manifestation. Feel the word. Become the word. Let your Voice resonate with the essence of stillness."
I sighed. "Alright, alright. Still water. Got it." I closed my eyes, trying to clear my mind. I pictured the water, perfectly unmoving. I tried to feel the concept of stillness, the absence of motion. It was harder than it sounded. My mind kept jumping to the Drainers, to Kael, to the sheer absurdity of my situation.
"Still," I whispered, trying to infuse the word with calm, with intent.
Nothing happened. The water remained perfectly still. A faint blush crept up my neck.
"Again," Violet prompted, her voice unwavering. "Clearer intent. Less… internal commentary."
"Oh, so you can hear my internal commentary now too?" I grumbled, opening my eyes. "Great. Just what I needed. More privacy violations."
I tried again. This time, I focused harder, trying to ignore the chaotic thoughts. I imagined the word "Still" as a physical force, pressing down on the water, holding it in place.
"Still!" I commanded, a little louder, a little more force behind it.
A tiny ripple, almost imperceptible, spread across the surface of the water, then vanished. It was the opposite of what I wanted.
"You are forcing it," Violet observed, her tone gentle. "You are trying to command it with raw will, not flow with its nature. Your Violet power, while destructive, also has a profound connection to the fundamental state of things. You are trying to break the stillness, rather than embrace it."
My frustration flared. "But that's what I do! I break things! I exploded a lamp, I cracked a window, I shattered a pipe, I made a bridge re-weave itself! 'Still' is not in my vocabulary right now!"
My voice, rising in exasperation, resonated with my mounting frustration. My eyes, I could feel it, were beginning to deepen, the calm violet starting to swirl with a darker, more turbulent hue. The tattoo on my arm pulsed, a faint, angry thrum.
"Cassandra, calm yourself," Violet warned, her sapphire eyes widening slightly. "Your emotions are rising."
But it was too late. The frustration, the self-doubt, the sheer, incandescent annoyance at my own inability to do something so simple, it all boiled over. My Voice, unbidden, resonated with my inner turmoil.
"STILL!" I roared, the word tearing from my core, fueled by a potent mix of anger and desperate longing for control.
The water in the pool didn't just become still. It froze. Not into ice, but into a perfectly smooth, unmoving, glass-like surface. Every ripple, every subtle current, every molecule of water was locked into absolute, unyielding stillness. It was like a photograph, but real. The air above the pool shimmered, distorted by the sheer force of the manifestation. Reality Distortion – applied to a single concept.
I stared, my jaw slack. The pool was a mirror, reflecting my wide, disbelieving eyes, now blazing with a furious amethyst. The tattoo on my arm pulsed with an almost blinding light. I had done it again. Accidentally.
Violet stood frozen, her sapphire eyes wide with shock, staring at the perfectly still, glass-like water. "By the Ancestors," she whispered, her voice filled with a profound awe. "You didn't just make it still. You made it absolutely still. You locked its very state of being." She turned to me, her gaze piercing. "Cassandra, your Voice… it doesn't just command. It defines. You are not just a re-weaver. You are a Definer of State."
"A Definer of State?" I repeated, my voice hoarse. "What the hell does that even mean? Am I going to accidentally turn someone into a permanent statue if I get annoyed?"
Violet shook her head slowly, a mixture of wonder and deep concern on her face. "It means your potential is far greater, and far more dangerous, than I first imagined. It means your Voice can impose a singular, absolute condition on anything you command. It is a power of ultimate control… or ultimate chaos, if untamed."
I looked at the perfectly frozen pool, then at my still-blazing violet eyes reflected in its surface. A Definer of State. It sounded terrifying. It sounded powerful. And it sounded like something I had absolutely no idea how to control. My journey to master the Voice of Echoes was going to be less about learning spells and more about learning to master the raging storm within myself. And right now, that storm felt like it was just getting started.