Zephyr sat on the scorching sand, surrounded by the desert's quiet stillness, his gaze lost on the horizon, eyes adrift in a world of questions. The sun's heat scorched his forehead, and the sand beneath him glowed like embers. Yet, he barely felt it; his mind was preoccupied, his soul wandering in another dimension.
The only sound was the crackling of the burning coals beside the camp, their soft crackles dancing through the air like an ancient melody—a forgotten song, echoing only in the depths of oblivion. Despite their simplicity, those sounds carried a strange serenity… as if comforting him, or perhaps celebrating a fateful moment from which there was no return.
The phrase "the first steps of ascension" echoed in his ears like the distant call of a long-awaited dream. The words reverberated within him like a faint but deep bell, stirring in him a strange exhilaration—the thrill of a man who had finally come close to tasting something he had yearned for since setting foot in this savage world.
His thoughts clashed like stormy waves on a chaotic sea. Anticipation, hope, excitement, and anxiety merged, creating a storm within his chest… yet it was a beautiful storm, pulsing with life.
The first question that crossed his mind was: what is this energy Arlond spoke of a month ago? That mysterious force he had explained in such detail—an energy Zephyr had witnessed firsthand in the battle with the mutated wolf and the mercenary leader who hardly resembled a human.
Could someone like him, a stranger to this world, truly harness such power? Was his body even compatible with it? Or was he merely an outsider, unable to even touch this dimension of strength?
And could this energy really transform a human into something else? Something stronger, faster, deadlier? A being that transcends the limits of flesh and mind?
The air around him felt heavy, still, as if charged with an invisible force—barely seen, but undeniably present. He felt as if something unseen moved around him, watching… or waiting.
Suddenly, a deep, firm, and familiar voice broke the silence:
"Ascension energy is a force that surrounds us everywhere."
Zephyr slowly turned to find Arlond standing behind him, watching him with a stern gaze filled with both wisdom and caution.
"It's denser in some places, and thinner in others. Here in the desert, it's slightly denser—because the land is empty, devoid of people, and free of those who drain it."
Arlond spoke with the tone of someone who had both studied and lived the knowledge, then added more seriously:
"When you begin gathering energy, be careful not to bite off more than you can chew. Start slowly… with a very small amount, like touching fire with the tip of your finger. Draw it gently toward your heart, and stay in control."
"After that, gradually loosen your grip, and let it spread within you, like ink dispersing in water."
His words were clear, yet the weight of their meaning left a deep impression on Zephyr's chest.
"Gathering ascension energy is a slow process… painfully slow. If you rush it, you might hurt yourself before you taste even a sliver of its power."
Zephyr, his eyes brimming with countless questions, asked with a hint of anxiety he couldn't conceal:
"What happens if I gather too much?"
Arlond paused for a moment, as if recalling a distant memory, then stared at the horizon as he spoke:
"I heard a story about a man… reckless. He entered a zone saturated with ascension energy and started absorbing it greedily, without restraint. He took in more than his fragile body could handle… His heart couldn't bear it. It exploded from within."
He fell silent for a moment, as if the words themselves weighed heavy on his tongue, then added:
"He died."
Zephyr's body shivered. He hadn't realized it was that dangerous. His heartbeat quickened, but Arlond cut through the spiral of fear:
"Calm down, boy. Don't be afraid. Control yourself. If you follow the instructions, nothing bad will happen. Just… don't get too excited."
Then he offered a slight smile—it didn't erase the sternness of his face, but it eased the tension a little:
"The feeling of ascension energy varies from person to person. Some feel heat, others cold. Sometimes it's like a lightning strike, sometimes a spring breeze. Every body has its own language."
"For me, the first time I felt it, it was like rough stone grinding against my bones. As for Saren here…" He gestured to the young man standing silently nearby. "He felt a coldness like death, followed by searing heat—as if fire ignited in his veins."
"That's why you can't rely only on what I tell you. Your body will speak for itself. What matters is mastering the art of sensing."
He looked at Zephyr with a direct, piercing gaze:
"Do you understand me, Zephyr?"
Zephyr nodded slowly, as if absorbing every word, one by one.
Arlond continued:
"First step: close your eyes. Relax every muscle in your body. Breathe slowly. Let the air flow in and out like waves lapping a calm shore. Steady your heartbeat. Choose a quiet place, free of noise and human chatter. Your mind must be clear, as if erasing every thought and every worry."
"Once you master this state of clarity, move to the second step: imagine transparent particles floating around you. Draw them gently, as if inviting—not commanding—them. Let them enter your body and flow through your veins toward your heart… then hold them there."
"And the third step, the most complex and the most beautiful: every particle that enters, fuse it with the next. As if building something inside your chest—something unseen, yet alive. The more they bind, the more you'll start to feel… different."
He paused, then added in a grounded tone:
"But don't be fooled. Gathering energy takes a long time. Some people spend their whole lives stuck in the first stage. Others—the truly gifted—climb several levels within just a few years."
"I, for example… didn't begin gathering energy until I was thirty. Now, at thirty-five, I'm still on the path."
He pointed to Saren:
"He started at twenty-one. And now, at twenty-two, he's on the verge of his first ascent."
Zephyr looked at Saren, and his eyes held a mixture of admiration… and perhaps a hint of envy.
Saren responded with a cold, rigid look, as if to say: "Don't compare yourself to me."
Arlond resumed speaking:
"There are medicines and herbs that help with absorption. Some are natural and safe. Others are made from complex mixtures. But don't be reckless. A little might help—but too much… is a slow poison."
"The buildup of toxins will weaken you—and may destroy you from within."
He ended his words with a firm tone:
"The explanation is enough for now. The rest… you won't learn from words. Only experience will teach you."
He took a deep breath, then said with a voice that left no room for hesitation:
"Begin now."