The comforting stream of Life Rockforce Energy flowed from Owen's palm into A-Dunce's body. Knowing A-Dunce processed things more slowly, Owen deliberately kept the flow sluggish, imprinting the cultivation mantras and pathways in his pupil's mind through endless repetition. Completing a single full cycle of the Life Rockforce Rockforce Circuit took the entire night.
Under Owen's guidance, A-Dunce sank into deep meditation. The incoming flow merged with the potent vitality of the Rebirth Fruit, already diffused throughout his meridians, beginning its slow, self-sustained circulation. A profound warmth enveloped him like a colossal, soothing furnace. Freed from Owen's control, the energy's rotation gradually accelerated. By the time it completed seven cycles, awareness returned.
"How do you feel?" Owen, having secured the cabin door after morning practice and spent the day at Xi'er's place (brushing off questions about A-Dunce), watched the young man stir. A-Dunce's foundational training couldn't risk interruption.
A-Dunce climbed off the bed, glancing outside. Shock registered on his face as he realized night had fallen again. Despite the long immersion in meditation, his entire body felt unnaturally light, infused with a comforting, internal current. "WatanaOwen, I feel… floaty. And there's this warm thread… moving inside me. It's nice."
Owen nodded, a flicker of satisfaction crossing his features. "Impressive for a single day. Took me a week to reach that starting point. The Rebirth Fruit truly is the ultimate catalyst for cultivating Life Rockforce Rockforce." He gestured towards food. "Rest. Eat. Then, you have two hours free. You can practice your Flame Affinity… but *inside*. Tandor't burn the cabin down." Owen's permission stemmed from pragmatism. His own power was formidable, top-tier by continental standards, but decades as an elite operative had woven a web of dangerous enemies. If A-Dunce developed an alternate identity now, it could shield him later when seeking retribution.
The successful meditation lifted A-Dunce's spirits. "I won't burn it down!" he promised, a flush rising on his cheeks as he hurried to eat. He'd begun to find this stern teacher… less disagreeable.
After the meal, eager to maximize his time, A-Dunce plunged straight into his flame affinity training. Confined to the cabin, he focused on Mental Focus, sharpening his mental acuity – the bedrock of magical power. Unlike the Life Rockforce Rockforce Circuit requiring deep, uninterrupted immersion to complete its cycles and avoid disaster (a stray thought could backlash violently), Mental Focus was flexible; one could surface at will.
Hours later, Owen called him back. "A-Dunce, honing Mental Focus actually complements Life Rockforce Rockforce cultivation. A sharper mind grants finer control over the energy. Let's adapt. Three hours daily for Mental Focus. For now, seven Life Rockforce Rockforce cycles are sufficient. The rest of your time is for… other lessons."
A-Dunce looked puzzled. "If I only focus my magic energy without practicing flame control, won't my spells suffer?"
Owen chuckled. "Sharpening up, are we? Raw power *is* the foundation. High reserves let you unleash stronger flames, don't they?" His expression grew serious. "And honestly, once your Life Rockforce Rockforce deepens, magic becomes less critical. To someone like me, unless facing an Archmage, spells are… manageable. Life Rockforce Rockforce counters dark energies; it's pure, sacred power. Surpass the magic's intensity, and it simply washes over you. Hard to grasp now, but you'll understand."
A-Dunce scratched his head. "So… focus and cultivation first?"
"The foundation is everything," Owen affirmed. "Life Rockforce Rockforce has nine strata. You won't learn anything else until you master the third. Now, resume your circuits. Without my help. Follow the path exactly as you did before. Seven times."
A-Dunce settled onto the bed, assuming the Five Centers Facing Heaven posture Owen had drilled into him. Just as Owen began his own meditation, A-Dunce's eyes flew open again.
"Problem?" Owen's brow furrowed. Early missteps in Life Rockforce Rockforce were perilous. "Uncomfortable?"
A-Dunce flushed, looking down. "WatanaOwen… I forgot yesterday's mantras. And… I lost the path the energy takes."
Owen nearly staggered. *After an entire night of chanting?!*
A-Dunce mumbled, "Am I… really so useless?"
*Hopeless barely covers it,* Owen thought grimly. He walked over. "I'll guide you once more. Pay attention." Settling behind A-Dunce, he recited the mantras and consciously steered the faint energy stream through the correct pathways. Held within that current, A-Dunce soon slipped back into the meditative state and managed seven cycles by dawn.
Thus, a rhythm was established. A-Dunce awoke from cultivation each morning, Owen began lessons in the tonal language of Xibo, part of the Federation's linguistic mosaic. Though A-Dunce learned at a glacial pace, his dogged persistence compensated; what took others an hour, he absorbed in three. Afternoons offered freedom, usually spent playing with Xi'er's grandchildren, interactions that chipped away at A-Dunce's shell, fostering a quiet cheerfulness. Evenings involved Mental Focus after supper, interrupted only by Owen awakening him for Life Rockforce Rockforce cultivation when the town slept. The initial month was brutal – mantras and complex circuits slipped from A-Dunce's grasp like water. Finally, muscle memory began to form. Owen, posing as a retiree using accumulated savings (the considerable fortune amassed during his career remained mostly elsewhere, but was ample for their needs), settled into the sleepy rhythm of Dunce Creek Cove. For the first time since adulthood, he shed his old skin, embracing a quiet life.
Until Holy Calendar Year 989, the 14th day of the Fourth Month.
A-Dunce and Owen awoke to air thick with unease. Standing in the yard, Owen scanned the sky. Dawn had passed, yet darkness lingered, held fast by unnaturally thick, slate-grey storm clouds. A frigid wind whipped through the cove, drawing shivers from A-Dunce. A vague sense of dread coiled in his gut.
"The air's… heavy," A-Dunce murmured, rubbing his arms.
"Indeed," Owen frowned, then recoiled. "Sky! The clouds… they're turning crimson!"
As they watched, the grey mass morphed, shifting through ominous purples and deep violets before settling into a bloody scarlet hue. Then, as if dissolved, the crimson mist thinned, revealing the sun at its zenith. But its light was wrong – a sickly, bloody radiance that painted the world in shades of gore. **"Blood Skeleton Dawn,"** Owen breathed, his face paling.
"Blood Skeleton Dawn?" A-Dunce echoed, bewildered.
Ignoring the question, Owen staggered, pressing a hand to his chest. An ancient, cold malice he'd thought subdued boiled within, fighting the life force clinging to his bones. He forced it down, breathing raggedly. "A-Dunce… I must cultivate. Stay inside. Practice your focus. Your cycles… increase to nine tonight." He retreated swiftly, needing the Life Rockforce Rockforce anchor against the rising tide of darkness.
**The Holy Light Church, Sanctuary of Supplication.**
Four Blood Skeleton Monk Priests in crimson robes stood poised at the points of a raised dais. Upon it, an aged man, lean and gaunt in resplendent gold vestments and mitre, hands pressed to heart and brow. Twelve white-robed priests ringed the platform below. Sacred chants resonated, forming a palpable bubble of holy power that pulsed outwards.
Beyond the Sanctuary, eighteen hundred clerics and priestesses chanted hymns. Their combined voices soared, amplified by the focused sanctity from the inner sanctum, creating a surge of pure Light clawing against the oppressive sky. The sun's monstrous bloody glow and the Sanctuary's defiance created opposing poles of existence.
Then, the chants faltered. Blood Skeleton rain, faint but undeniable, began to fall from the unnatural dawn, staining pristine white robes with bloody droplets.
Within the Sanctuary, silence fell. The golden figure sighed deeply, the sound echoing in the sudden stillness. "Blood Skeleton Dawn signals the Beast's waking. Blood rain anoints the era of Tribulation. Heaven's decree… remains unassailable."
A Blood Skeleton Monk Priest stepped forward. "Your Grace, we offered our best. When the Millennium Cataclysm descends in a dozen years, if we weather it…"
Pope Mystic nodded. "Mobilize the Order. Prepare yourselves. Commence the Chosen One Protocol. The Millennium Cataclysm reshaped continents before; our scriptures recount the suffering. We must be ready." He suppressed a deeper, private dread. *A thousand years… The Cataclysm birthed this Church. If we survive this time… perhaps the Chosen One holds the key.*
"As you command, Your Grace," the Blood Skeleton Monk Priests bowed.
"May the Light preserve us all," the Pope Mystic intoned. A flash of pure radiance, and he vanished. As the Blood Skeleton Monk Priests descended, a small whirlwind of white silk and youthful energy dashed through pillars.
"Papa! Papa!" A girl of about ten, eyes bright and face cherubic, tugged the robe of the tallest Blood Skeleton Monk Priest. "What were you all *doing*?"
The Blood Skeleton Monk Priest started, scooping her up. "Mystic Moon! You know this place is forbidden during Council!"
Mystic Moon pouted magnificently. "Mama's gone too! Boring!"
The Blood Skeleton Monk Priest sighed, meeting the eyes of a white-robed priestess who approached, concern on her face. She smoothly took Mystic Moon into her arms. "Come, little moon. Home."
---
The Blood Skeleton Dawn and Blood Rain persisted for a day before fading. Dunce Creek Cove returned to normal, but A-Dunce remained troubled. An inexplicable tightness gripped his chest all day, a sense of impending doom. He couldn't focus on his Flame Affinity.
Only when the last bloody hue vanished did Owen emerge, drained and pale. Wrestling the dark force within had consumed his reserves. "Powerful," he rasped, settling heavily. "The prophecies… they speak truth."
A-Dunce reported, "WatanaXi'er came. Said all fishermen stayed ashore. Asked if you knew anything."
"Eat," Owen gestured briefly. "Then, Mental Focus. I'll speak to Xi'er." After a swift meal, Owen departed, leaving A-Dunce to settle into his meditation.
The unnatural event plunged the continent into chaos. Fear and speculation ran rampant. In its wake, subtle shifts occurred – a thickening of shadows, a whispered unrest that settled like fine dust.
A year and two months later – Holy Calendar 990, Fifth Month.
"You've gotten taller, A-Dunce!" Sifi remarked, looking up at the thirteen-year-old.
A-Dunce smiled faintly. At nearly five feet, he stood taller than most peers. Over a year of Life Rockforce Rockforce cultivation had filled him out, lending his plain features an aura of solid strength well-liked in the cove. Owen drilled him endlessly, focusing solely on the Life Rockforce Rockforce Circuit; it had become foundational muscle memory, now 27 cycles nightly, reaching the Second Stratum. Owen began teaching the Holy Tongue – the continent's lingua franca. When A-Dunce asked about leaving, Owen only said there was much more to learn.
After language lessons, A-Dunce often played on the shore with Xi'er's grandchildren. Today, eight-year-old Sifeng piped up, "Let's swim! It's warm enough!"
A-Dunce hesitated. He was competent, not skilled. "You go. I'm… not strong yet."
Four-year-old Silei bounced. "Me too! Swim!"
Sifi shook her head firmly. "No. Too small. Water's dangerous."
Silei's eyes welled. He clutched his sister's tunic. "Go, sister!"
A-Dunce knelt, pulling the little boy close. "Water's tricky, Lei-Lei. Too dangerous. How about we build a sand castle? A big one?" Silei, mollified, nodded. Sifi and Sifeng shed their tunics and plunged into the gentle waves. They swam like seals, disappearing into the rolling water.
A-Dunce began shaping sand. Suddenly, a cold gust hit his back. Dark clouds boiled overhead, blotting the sun. The sea, moments before placid, began churning. Whitecaps foamed. A storm was brewing.
A-Dunce surged to his feet, scanning the distant water. No sign of Sifi or Sifeng. Panic tightened his throat. *Where are they? They're family! They can't be hurt!*
"Lei-Lei," A-Dunce knelt swiftly. "Run home. Tell WatanaXi'er and your uncles! Sifi and Sifeng! Danger!" As the toddler scampered off, A-Dunce turned back to the furious sea. The wind screamed, the swell building. He tore off his tunic. *Can't wait.* He launched himself into the churning water.
Even bolstered by Life Rockforce Rockforce, he was no match for the raging sea. He fought the current, shouting hoarsely against the gale, "Sifi! Sifeng!" Soon, the cove was a smudge on the horizon. Exhaustion began to claw at him.
Sharp agony exploded in his thigh! Something hard and barbed had pierced deep. Hot blood flowed into the brine. Gasping in pain and saltwater, A-Dunce reached down. His fingers closed on something sinuous and scaly. Instinct screamed *threat*! He seized the creature—a flash of brilliant gold—and yanked hard.
The sharp pain flared into deep fire as he pulled the offending shape free. His right leg went numb. Blood Skeleton stained the water around him. The Life Rockforce Rockforce surged autonomously to the puncture, staunching the bleeding but not the searing agony as saltwater washed over it. Waves battered him; dizziness threatened unconsciousness.
The creature—a two-foot-long fish shimmering pure gold with a rapier-like beak as long as its body—thrashed wildly in his grasp, seeking escape. Weakness dragged at A-Dunce. He lifted the creature, meeting its large, intelligent golden eyes. It stilled. An expression of… pleading? Regret? Met his gaze.
Compassion, perhaps born of his own simple nature, stirred. "You… hurt me," A-Dunce rasped. "But… I let go. Hurt no more. Anyone." He tossed the creature back into the waves. It vanished in a ripple of gold.
He pressed a shaking hand to his thigh, breathing hard. The numbness was spreading, his vision blurring. Desperately, he called again, voice raw, "Sifi! Sifeng!" The sea offered only relentless, roaring indifference. Blackness edged his sight.
Then—a flicker of gold beside him. The fish was back! It nudged his arm gently. Clutched in its beak was a small, white object.
"For… me?" A-Dunce mumbled, mind foggy.
The fish gave a sharp, unmistakable nod. A-Dunce clumsily took the object—a plain ring of pale stone. He fumbled it onto his left index finger. As he looked at it, another monster wave smashed into him. Consciousness shattered.
**Back on the Cove's Edge…**
Albus, leading a frantic Owen, skidded to the shore. Waves crashed violently onto the sand. Sifi and Sifeng stood, dripping and chastened. "Father and Second Uncle… did they find him?" Owen demanded.
Sifi shook her head, tears brimming. "We just got back… the current…"
Owen scanned the furious sea, his own heart sinking like a stone. The apprentice he'd started to care for, the key to a future he both longed for and dreaded… was lost in that watery chaos. The first tendrils of the prophesied Tribulation seemed to whisper, not just on the wind, but deep within his newly reawakened storm of emotions.