Harbinger Of Doom: The Attainer

51. A New Stage

Gingered and motivated, Lores sat in the lotus position. The elder was a rigid teacher, energetic to the core. His characteristics quite dovetailed with his dogged student. Both were intense on their relationship as master and student. The elder was moved by the tenacity of Lores. Despite the demanding nature of the youth's specie as an attainer, he remained unfazed and optimistic. He cast a puzzling look on his student.

"Why are you so positive?"

Lores was actually ignorant of the answer. He had to muse for a moment. He expressed the sudden feeling that overwhelmed him, his face solemn and expressive.

"Master, I feel like I have met you before. It's terrific that fate led us to one another. Honestly, I can't tell the cause of my optimism. Maybe it's because I have a mission to accomplish." Lores concluded that his mission in Liz was probably the reason driving his unwavering eagerness. The sage did not pry further. Whatever Lores was after must be personal and momentous.

"You share a similarity with Shawlunge. You will spur to the heights of greatness as long as you don't cower." The sage praised. Lores welcomed it by smiling before asking curiously.

"Master, what stage are you in? Apparently, only the archmage of Liz is in the fourth stage. So I'm guessing that you're in the third stage considering your magical prowess."

The sage finally saw the need to answer the question.

"I'm a natural in the stage of exaltation. It took me several years of my life but here we are." The sage said gently in reminiscence of his arduous journey to invincibility.

"And you're a natural??" Lores' eyes grew impossibly wide, a breath catching in his throat. Magery was the hell of a practice. It required an intense devotion that may take a lifetime. The sage only smiled in response. Lores simmered down and asked coldly.

"How long do you think it will take me to master the stage of familiarity?"

The sage drew in his lips with raised brows as he answered bluntly, no dilution or prevarication.

"As an attainer, if you practice consistently, we'll be talking of ten to eleven years. If a miracle happens, then seven years will be the limit."

Lores found the answer to be hilarious. His impeccable rose red lips betrayed his phlegm as they split to usher out fits of windshield laughter that sounded like the bells of heaven. It was the funniest joke he had ever heard in his life. The sage stared at the boy in catatonic stupor. What an enigma!

"And whose principle is that?" Lores asked after fixing himself aright.

"It's the standard principle." The sage answered, waiting to see more of Lores' brazen attitude.

"Master, let's get to work. I'm really curious now." He turned his head to the sage. "Master, don't you want to know how authentic this standard principle is?"

The sage was in silent awe. Close to him was a boy hoping to defy established principles, an ambition few would be brave to follow. The elder caught Lores' contagious curiosity. It would be interesting to see how the crazy pursuit of Lores would pan out.

"Don't be boastful. First of all, let's perfect your gnosis."

Lores sat upright, prepared to take on any test. He closed his eyes and massaged his temples genteelly. The elder stroked his white beard with rivet, a distant smile plastered on his face.

"Hmm, try summoning your sword."

Lores' eyes sped open. Sword summoning was the highest test of a mage's gnosis. It's a test that builds a bond between a mage and their weapon. When it has been accomplished, the mage advances into the stage of familiarity. Lores had to literally summon his sword from its place inside the house right to where he sat. It was a challenging task, but also an exciting one.