Chapter 97: Falling Behind. Again

Chapter 97: Falling Behind. Again For the next two days, Lynnor trained them in sensing the flow of their internal energy. She guided their awareness along its pathways, showing them how it coursed through their limbs, pulsed through their hearts, and lingered behind their eyes. She made them sense the energy around them, feeling it in the air they breathed, in the plants and animals around, and in the earth beneath. By the third day, they were ready to begin storing it. They settled around the fire, all seated in lotus position. "Now close your eyes and try to feel the energy around you," Lynnor squatted before them, watching to be sure they were doing it right. Mozrael was very focused. Afraid, but focused. Aramith, on the other hand...was too focused. "You need to be focused, not tensed," Lynnor lightly flicked Aramith’s forehead. "But I’m doing exactly that," he complained. "Yes, you’re focused like I explained, but you won’t be able to do much if you’re too focused." She let out a sigh. "It’s like going to hunt. You have to focus on your prey, but you don’t need to only focus on what you’re hunting. Be aware of everything else around you." Aramith tried again. He sat properly, relaxed his muscles, and tried to focus on the energy around him. It wasn’t as simple as he’d imagined it to be. His mind darted about, focusing on everything with too much detail. When the wind blew, he felt it; when a cricket chirped, he heard it. When Mozrael or Lynnor breathed, he noticed it. He even noticed his breathing, his heart beating, and his tongue sitting in his mouth. He was too conscious of everything, but he knew that wasn’t what Lynnor meant when she said to focus on everything around him. Noticing his brows creasing from frustration, he shook his head, cleared his face and mind, then tried again. "Just pick something and focus on it, then allow everything else to exist around you. Notice them, but don’t focus on them," Lynnor suggested. Aramith nodded, eyes still closed. He focused on his breathing, taking very deep breaths, holding them in for a while, then releasing them. He repeated the process a few more times, then tried again. This time, he chose to focus on the ground beneath him. He allowed it to fill the space in his mind, and just as Lynnor told him, he allowed everything else to exist around him. It still took him a few tries before he was able to achieve enough focus on his surroundings without being too focused. Mozrael, on the other hand, took to it instantly. She had achieved perfect focus the moment Lynnor explained it to her. She was as sturdy as a rock and undistracted in the slightest. Next, Lynnor guided them to open up to allow the Youm to flow into their bodies. Once again, Mozrael was able to grasp this easily. With only a brief moment of focus, she funneled enormous streams of Youm into her heart. She just sucked it all in like a pit beneath a waterfall. Lynnor blinked. How is this possible? She raised a hand. "Stop." Mozrael paused, opening her eyes. "Why?" She knew she was doing it right, so why did she ask her to stop? Aramith stole a glance at her across the fire. She sat perfectly still, her brow serene, the glow of Youm gentle around her chest. How? he wondered. How is it so easy for you? He wasn’t jealous. Just confused at how the difference was so huge. Lynnor apologized to Aramith for distracting him and told him to go back to cultivating. "That’s... too much. Too fast. I need to make sure nothing’s going wrong," she explained to Mozrael. Mozrael nodded and sat still. She didn’t feel anything was wrong. It was as Lynnor had explained to her. But Lynnor was thinking deeply about Mozrael’s pace. She was afraid. If a body took in more Youm than it could hold, it could lead to death. Lynnor observed her well, but everything was fine. Her heart pulsed warmly with the newly received energy. Lynnor stared. "You’re a natural." But even for people who could do such, Mozrael’s way of taking in Youm was very peculiar. Aramith, meanwhile, struggled. He barely stored anything. Even after hours, he managed less than a sliver of what Mozrael held. "It’s supposed to be difficult," he muttered, frustrated. "But this feels like... nothing." Lynnor watched carefully. No blockage. No flaw. And yet, his energy was stagnant. It was like the energy refused to go in on its own. The next night, she let him continue cultivating while she taught Mozrael how to access her realm. That was how far Mzorael had been able to go in the span of a night. It took her less than a minute, and she had already made contact with her cultivation realm. "Already?" Lynnor blinked. Mozrael nodded, eyes distant. "I’m there." Inside, she wasn’t sure if it was wonder or fear that made her chest tighten. Lynnor paused. It had taken others days just to feel the echo of their realms, let alone step into them. Lynnor let her explore it for a while, then pulled her back. The process was flawless. To be sure, Lynnor made her attempt again. The second attempt was even smoother. "Prodigy," Lynnor muttered under her breath. That was the only way she could describe her. Some rare people could easily cultivate and climb ranks quickly, but Mozrael was just too surprising. Lynnor decided she would let Mozrael continue like that. She would check if the girl was ready to break through her first gate later. She moved on to Aramith, trying to guide his flow of energy. Hours passed. Nothing. He sat still, silent, frowning. Sweat beaded his brow. But his eyes remained closed. His body remained unchanged; his core was almost empty. "It doesn’t make any sense at all." Morning came too soon, and they had to pack up and continue their journey. The forest air was crisp, stirred gently by the wind that rustled through the leaves. Their footprints sank into the damp soil as they walked, the morning sun cutting through the trees in slanted rays. Mozrael stayed a step behind the others, her gaze drifting toward Aramith’s back. He wasn’t speaking. His shoulders, usually squared, sagged with something heavier. She noticed the way his hands occasionally clenched, his jaw set tight. He was frustrated. She wanted to say something. To tell him he was doing fine. That it was okay to not get it right immediately. But every time she opened her mouth, the words dried up. Would it sound like she was talking down to him? Would he think she was bragging? The silence stretched longer than it should have. But then, Aramith glanced over his shoulder and caught her eyes. He smiled faintly, then slowed his pace to fall beside her. "I know. You’re worried," he muttered, eyes fixed ahead. Mozrael blinked. "What?" He let out a breath. "Yeah...I’m struggling. And I’m not getting it at all. To think even Lynnor doesn’t know what’s wrong." Mozrael looked down. She wasn’t sure how to respond. "But I am trying," Aramith went on, voice lower now. "I’ve been giving it my all. I sit till my legs go numb, I breathe till my head’s spinning, and still, nothing. But you..." He glanced at her. "You’re getting it so fast." "I’m sorry—" Mozrael started. "No." He cut her off, then reached out and ruffled her hair, almost playfully. "You’re doing amazing. That’s what I wanted to say." Mozrael froze, blinking fast. The gesture was unexpected. "I’m proud of you," Aramith added, more softly. "Just don’t leave me in the dust, alright? I’ll catch up. I promise. We’re gonna be the strongest siblings the world’s ever seen." A warmth bloomed in her chest. Her lips tugged into a small smile, and she nodded once. "Okay." He grinned, but another emotion beneath his eyes lingered. Lynnor, who’d been walking ahead, slowed and twisted around. "Oi, no sulking, mopey boy," she said, raising an eyebrow at Aramith. "I don’t want to look back and see you dragging your feet like a tragic widow." Mozrael stifled a giggle. Aramith groaned, rubbing his face. "And you," Lynnor pointed at Mozrael, "don’t let all that shiny progress get to your head. Confidence is good. Arrogance is boring. Except when it’s me." Mozrael flushed red. "I—I wasn’t trying to..." "I know," Lynnor said with a wink. "You’re too shy to be arrogant. But still...keep your feet on the ground, kiddo." Mozrael opened her mouth to apologize, but Aramith spoke first. "Don’t apologize," he said firmly. "You’re doing great. Be proud of that. Just make sure you wait for me at the top." Mozrael’s ears burned, but she nodded again, this time with more certainty. Lynnor smirked. "Well, aren’t we just adorable. Look at you two, being all wholesome. I might cry." "You did cry once," Aramith muttered. "That was from spicy food," Lynnor shot back. "Different emotional journey." "But you brought out that food," Aramith said quickly. "Oh, shut up." They all laughed—Mozrael quietly, Aramith a little louder, and Lynnor like she always did: loud and unbothered. By the time the sun began to dip toward the horizon, the mood was lighter. They made camp beneath a thick old tree, flames crackling softly as Lynnor prepared a quick meal. The tension that had clung to them like mist had finally started to lift. That night, they tried again. The mood shifted from light to tense when they started. Mozrael was making substantial progress, while Aramith remained stuck. Lynnor didn’t let them continue till morning. They needed to rest. Mozrael to let the energy settle, and Aramith to be able to relax. The next day, she decided they shouldn’t travel. They would spend the whole day practicing. And yet, the result? The same. When he tried again, a cold numbness pulsed faintly through his core. It was not pain, not fatigue. Just... absence. Like a well with no bottom. Lynnor frowned, sensing it as well. "That’s not normal," she said under her breath. And with every failed attempt, Aramith felt it more and more. This was no different from when he understood nothing. And one more thing bothered him. He hadn’t been able to sense his attribute at all. Every time he tried to cultivate, it would act up, but now...it was just quiet. But what if I try to use it and I lose control again? If he could control the flow of Youm within him, then he would be able to control his attribute. But even with this realization, he still felt...ike something was missing. Or worse... Like something was about to go wrong.