Spirit's Awakening: The Path of Lightning and Water-Chapter 326: Sleep Deprived?

The white expanse dissolved around him, vanishing as quickly as it had come. Lassim’s awareness snapped back to his body with an almost violent jolt. His chest heaved as he gasped for air, his robes, drenched from the rain that had assaulted him while his consciousness was torn away, was clinging to his skin.

On the outside, the relentless storm of the East Grove still roared around him, but compared to the suffocating intensity of the black and red lightning filled mental realm, it felt almost distant.

He blinked rapidly, his mind sluggish and disoriented. The gnarled roots of the storm leaf tree that had provided him shelter dug into his back as he leaned backwards, grounding him in reality. His halberd still rested across his lap, its surface faintly warm to the touch as if somehow still charged with the lingering mana of the encounter.

"What... just happened?" he muttered, his voice completely inaudible over the howling wind and thunder of the storm. His lightning sprite fish swam lazily around him, somewhat defensively still, as though they, too, had been affected by the encounter.

Shaking off the lingering daze, Lassim halted his cultivation and pushed himself to his feet. The rain still sliced against his skin, but he barely felt it. His thoughts were consumed by the storm elemental—the black and red lightning, the overwhelming jealousy, and the whole out-of-body experience. He needed to process what had happened, but this wasn’t the place.

The journey back to Skybound Village felt longer than it had been to arrive, the storm’s ferocity waned with every step away from the East Grove.

By the time Lassim reached the edge of the Storm Leaf Tree forest, the rain had softened to a steady drizzle, and the thunder had retreated to a low, distant rumble. His steps were heavy as he made his way to his quarters, his mind still replaying the encounter in vivid detail.

The previously overpowering scent of wood polish and new paint had faded over the last two weeks, leaving only a humid and damp air to greet him as he stepped inside.

He undid his soaked outer robe, hanging it near the door to drip dry before retrieving his notebook from his desk. He remained in his undergarments, for the time being, as he sat down. The pages were already filled with inspiration fueled sketches for runes and notes on the spatial alphabet, but tonight, those would have to wait.

Sitting cross-legged on his chair, Lassim opened to a blank page and began to sketch. The movements of his pencil pausing only every few minutes to revisit his memory of the encounter, his mind focused entirely on capturing the storm entity’s form.

First, the jagged arcs of red and black lightning that had formed its limbs. Then, the dense, churning clouds that made up its body, their edges shifting like a living storm. And finally, the crimson eyes that had burned with a mix of fury and jealousy.

He stared at the finished sketch for a long moment. The image felt incomplete, as if the entity’s essence couldn’t be fully captured on paper. Still, it would help with his plan to gather information on this being in the morning.

Lassim closed the notebook with a quiet sigh, setting it aside before taking the few short steps to the bed and laying down. His pillow and sleeping position angled to allow him to look towards his window. The storm outside had settled into a gentle rhythm, the rain tapping against the window in a soothing cadence.

~~~

The next morning Lassim rolled over and stared at the notebook on his desk, "Well… Might as well see if anyone has any answers about it." He stated out loud, more to Zaphy and Mari than himself.

He just received a mental nod from both of them, before he stood up and walked over to pick up the notebook.

Lassim leaned against the edge of his desk, and flipped it open. His fingers idly tracing the edges of the sketch of the storm elemental that stared back at him. It was a crude drawing, unable to fully capture the power and presence it exuded during their encounter. Crimson eyes, jagged lightning arms, and a body that shifted like a storm refusing to take a single shape.

He frowned, closing the notebook and slipping it into his magic pouch that he moved over to a new set of Personal Disciple martial attire. The memory lingered, vivid and unsettling. If the Tempest Cradle had housed something like that for millennia, why hadn’t anyone ever mentioned it? Surely someone in the sect—anyone—would know something. Right?

Straightening, Lassim adjusted his robes and made his way out of the residence.

Stepping outside, the storm swept across Skybound Village in its usual manner. It had picked up a bit since last night, but still at normal daytime levels with rain falling in a steady pour. Thankfully, this far away from the East Grove, his natural spiritual pressure and affinity for the Lightning and Water elements left him completely dry as he walked briskly along the main path.

Soon he approached the Skybound Dock, the same wide open and wooden bridge-like structure, perched on the edge of the cliff. It would be overlooking the roiling ocean below had it not been for the fact that the storm of the Tempest’s Cradle completely engulfed any potential scenic view.

The docks were a bustling point of activity, where disciples came and went, their rented thunderbirds swooping down from the storm-laden skies to land in gracefully and let their passengers disembark.

The steady sound of talons clicking against the wooden platform was interspersed with the occasional squawk of a thunderbird, as Lassim’s eyes swept across the crowd.

While taking in the flow of Outer and Inner Disciples, a few cast lingering glances his way, the golden trim of his Personal Disciple robes drawing a mix of respect and curiosity for why he was just standing there.

He ignored their stares, focusing instead on finding someone who might provide answers. He walked toward a cluster of disciples near the edge of the dock, where they were inspecting the saddles and gear of the riderless thunderbirds to prepare them for the next customers.

As he approached, one of the disciples noticed him and nudged their coworker in the ribs. The group turned quickly, their chatter quieting. Their expressions wavered slightly.

"Senior Brother," one of them greeted, bowing slightly. He was a tall, wiry youth at the Spirit Growth stage. "Are you looking for a bird to fly back to the mainland?"

"No, sorry to interrupt your work, but I have a question," Lassim said, "Have any of you heard of anyone experiencing anything unusual when they cultivate in the East Grove? I feel like I might be going a bit crazy."

The group exchanged puzzled glances. Another disciple, a short girl with strikingly bright violet eyes at the Spirit Transformation stage spoke up. "Like… what exactly?"

"An elemental," Lassim confirmed as he pulled out his notebook to show them the sketch he’d drawn.

The first disciple shook his head slowly. "I’ve not spent any time in the East Grove yet since I’m still too weak, but I do hear a lot of gossip here at the docks. I’ve never seen or heard of anything like that, and if I had, it’d surely have been big news."

A third disciple, a broad-shouldered young man adjusting the strap on a thunderbird’s saddle, glanced over. "The mana in the East Grove does strange things to people. Are you sure you’re not training too hard, Senior brother? I know we don’t need to sleep all that often, especially with cultivation as high as yours, but it still helps the mind reset after all we go through on a daily basis. When was the last time you slept? I once had a friend that went a month without sleeping and he kept talking about seeing visions of things that didn’t exist, like hallucinations. A good night’s sleep fixed him right up!"

"It wasn’t a vision," Lassim replied with a sigh. "It was real and I even had a whole battle against it when it interrupted my meditation."

The disciples shifted uneasily as their strange Senior brother of theirs seemed to be a little crazy.

The girl with violet eyes broke the silence. "Maybe it’s something only an esteemed Personal Disciple, like you, can sense. You’re the only one here who’s reached Spirit Ascension. Maybe your cultivation makes you more sensitive to the Elemental or whatever you encountered."

"Or maybe it’s tied to your twin elements?" the first disciple added hesitantly. "I mean, you’re pretty famous around here, Senior Brother Lassim. Maybe it’s got something to do with that?"

Lassim considered their words, but they brought him no closer to an answer. He gave a curt nod. "Thanks for your time. Sorry to interrupt your work. That’s all I needed."

The group murmured polite farewells as Lassim turned and walked away from the docks. The bustle of activity resumed behind him, but he barely noticed. Their lack of understanding only made the encounter in the East Grove feel more strange.

"Did I really experience that situation with the elemental or has working on the space rune alphabet made me go crazy?" he muttered under his breath, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. He hadn’t expected much, but the complete absence of any recognition or knowledge from the others left him feeling even more adrift.

As he left the Skybound Dock behind, he made his way toward the Research Grove, the storm intensifying overhead as if reflecting his mood.

The Research Grove was busy as always, filled with disciples experimenting with arrays, testing techniques, and refining their crafts. The air buzzed with the workings of concentrated mana from multiple techniques being activated at a time, and occasional flashes of light marked the success—or failure—of someone’s work.

Lassim’s eyes scanned the grove until they landed on a familiar figure standing near an experimental containment array.

Varen, one of the more senior disciples that he’d met on his first day and had given him the advice to visit the East Grove in the first place, watched another disciple test a lightning-based defense technique. His arms were crossed, his expression calm but attentive as he was giving his advice towards the other disciple.

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Lassim decided, if anyone could offer any meaningful insight, it would be him.

"Senior Brother Varen," Lassim called out as he approached. The older disciple turned, his gaze sharpening with interest.

"Brother Lassim," Varen greeted, stepping away from the array. "Like I said before, just treat me as if we’re on the same level. No need for the ’Senior’ park. I haven’t seen you around since the other day. What brings you to the Research Grove?"