Kairen was failing.
He stood on the stone platform by the waterfall, the thundering roar a constant, chaotic backdrop to his repeated defeats. He had been at this for days, his body moving through the slow, fluid forms, his mind trying to hold the 'Inner Sanctum' steady, and his will trying to draw the 'thread' of Essence.
It was, as Vanamali had warned, like juggling fire.
Every attempt ended in disaster.
He would begin the form, his body moving in the slow, Tai Chi-like arc. He would sink his mind into his fortress, picturing the warm, safe walls of his childhood room. He would invite the Essence. The blue-white thread would emerge...
And the instant the "Sorrow" echo attacked, his focus would splinter.
If he reinforced his mental wall to block the crimson eyes, his physical form would stumble, breaking the flow. The thread would snap.
