This wasn't the sort of autonomy that you could have by patting your head and rubbing your stomach. This was essentially like doing a complicated math problem in your head while at the same time reciting a song word for word in the same way.
In short, it was impossible for Morne. Or the majority of humans, for that matter.
He tried anyway, and failed as expected, but he refused to give up, throwing himself back into it again and again only for his Chimh to splash back into his Well and his mental image of the three layers to nearly evaporate.
He rinsed and repeated for hours, not moving a single inch even when hunger started to gnaw at his stomach, but no matter what he did or how he did it, he was met with failure.
Again.
And again.
And again.
The constant failure was maddening. A headache was already pounding away at his temples, and he felt like screaming at the top of his lungs, but none of it showed on his face.
