Harbinger Of Doom: The Attainer

50. Accepted

The distant view of the globe stretched as far as the eyes could see, orchestrating a vista of amazing visuality. Within its majesty, the setting sun made a splendid and magnificent scene in the expanse, painting the western horizon a dusky red.

The honks of wild geese and rustling of bamboo leaves made a naturalistic combination of mundane harmony, as if the world was free of the constant human predation. Tinge of the easing sun filtered through the leaves, dispersing into ethereal rays that shone on the forest paths, its beauty comparable to a rainbow on a cloudy day.

Lores and the elder had just returned from picking herbs in the forest. It had become a routine for Lores to accompany the elder on his habitual excursion of procuring various species of plant. To the disbelief of Lores, he had become a genius in the administration of herbs.

They offloaded the herbs from the donkey-drawn cart and stacked them in the kitchen as per the standard procedure. Lores had been cajoling the elder for a whole week with no achievement. Howbeit, he still held on to his adamancy. So far, the elderly vegan had shown only nonchalance, dismissing all of Lores' advances. That very evening, the elder decided to give Lores a task he had been doing himself. 

"Go and make a fire."

Lores merrily obeyed and went straight away to the kitchen. Afterwards, he noticed that there was no substance to make a fire. He ran headlong to report to the elder.

"Master, we have no flints. Do you make use of a flame stick?"

The elder remained there unflustered, without giving any sign of response, as if Lores just spoke to the wind. He only took his donkey to its stable while feigning deafness.

When Lores saw his words were suspended in the air, his face revealed petulance which later percolated into a calculative expression. He tilted his head two times in a moment of thought. The elder had been the one making fire, therefore if there were no flints, he should be the first person to know of it. But the elder...

"Wait!!! He wants me to make a fire using my gnosis!!!! He has accepted me!!!" Lores squealed in his head, his eyes expanding into saucer eyes. His lips parted into a grin as he rapidly glanced at the elder.

"Yes, master!" His voice emphatic and determined. He raced back to the kitchen, throwing his limbs and arms like a mad person, his long hair undulating from side to side.

The elder looked back at the overjoyed boy and shook his head, his face uncovering a smidgen of amusement. Lores' adamance had won over his intention to forestall.

Lores squatted in front of the fire place and started putting his gnosis to test. He calmed himself and stared at the twigs in thorough concentration, his abyssal eyes piercing the designated spot, as if threatening it to ignite by itself.

Lores felt the heightened state of his will. He felt it was gradually beginning to take effect as his persistence grew. Suddenly, the crackling of fire became audible. The twigs had been engulfed in flames that seemed as though they came from nowhere. Lores smiled in content. He turned to suddenly see the average stature of the enigmatic old man. His arms were folded as he stared casually at the boy with no ounce of impression. To him, what Lores did was a duck soup ability any worthy mage shouldn't boast of.

Lores smiled at the elder. "Why have you suddenly accepted me?"

After a long while of whist, the elder spurted his words, as if he letting out pent-up stress. His face coloured with abject resignation.

"If I don't accept you, you will keep pestering me for the few remaining years of my life."

Lores was exhilarated. He bolted to his knees and kowtowed before his master. "Brenn fully acknowledges this sage as his master."