Harbinger Of Doom: The Attainer

52. The Life of Shawlunge

"Alright. Alright. Don't be so happy. I call the second stage a stage of neutrality. In this stage, you're neither an amateur nor a professional. Calm down."

Lores simmered down. He proceeded to search for an explanation with regards to his trance.

"Master, I saw myself in a vast tempestuous land. The thunder and lightnings were scary. For a moment, I thought I had met my demise. Strangely, I was unscathed by the lightnings. Then suddenly, I was swept to the pinnacle of a tower I thought had no end. It looked so real until I heard your voice urging me to return to reality."

The sage smiled a little and nodded impressively.

"That was the realm of awareness. You weren't harmed by the lightnings because your will was stronger. If you had not jumped down from that tower, you would've have been consumed by your inner self." The sage's face turned bitter. "It would be a terrible experience. You would have gone berserk due to wrong practice of magery."

Lores cogitated on what the sage had said. He was beginning to comprehend the versatility of the phenomenon. Witnessing the impartation, unveiling the truth of the esoteric knowledge of the cosmopolitan world. Many have met a dead end, and have been swallowed up by their fates. Resolves have been shaken, leading many to succumb to overwhelming ordeals. Lores was bent on writing his own story as opposed to the omnipotent writer- fate.

How far can he go?

Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!

After the phenomenal day that Lores broke through to the second stage, he had been radically training on channeling his essence energy to his sword but ran into a bottleneck. He pined for a tangible improvement, for he was desirous and also...bemused. His avid performances were so-so whereas he fought like a top tier mage against the lady at Red Moth Village. Till now, Lores couldn't find any concrete explanation to his anomaly at the village. "Lores, what's happening? Was I possessed by some supreme being when I fought the mage of Snowil?"

By now, Lores was already sweating bucket beckets. Normally, when a natural advances into the second stage, they would be able to sufficiently channel their essence energy to their weapon. But Lores' case seemed to differ. The sage had told him that it was all the demanding disposition of his being an attainer, yet each time Lores thought of his anomaly at the village, he lacked conviction. He occasionally sensed that something was out of order in him.

He capitulated with a frown, then left for the house to meet the sage.

The sage seemed to be getting set for calligraphy as he conscientiously grinded ink on an inkstone. Near the oil lamp were neat sheets of vellum waiting to be used. The mild crushing sound hung when Lores entered. He unhurriedly sat close to the table with a complex frown of frustration and fatigue.

"Still no improvement?" The sage smiled indifferently, seemingly amused by the Lores' wild-goose chase, the rhetorical question a further evidence of it.

Lores sighed, then shook his head. He goodened his expression before making a statement.

"Master, let me help with that." He would rest for a while and try harder next time. The sage allowed him. Lores held the ink grinder and started grinding conscientiously.

"The core of the energy vessels is situated in the abdomen. Perhaps you need to regulate your breath by using a special breathing technique to effect your essence energy." The sage easily said. He took a brush and smeared it on the inkstone, his eyes keen on his actions, his body language accentuating his personality trait of reluctance.

(A/N: For emphasis, in case you're wondering what energy vessels look like. Energy vessels are unnatural veins that are all connected to a point known as essence core in the abdomen. So, normal humans have sea of essence while mages have essence cores)