Paskha has been practicing alone at his teacher's training ground for two weeks. He tried to create other flowers with his soul force, but nothing worked. He could create no other flower than the despair flower. Was he only able to produce one kind of flower?
Paskha didn't know how long he had been training here and didn't even feel the sweat starting to run down his back. When he felt a flower appear on his palm, Paskha opened his eyes and again let out a disappointed sigh.
Still the same flower. Is he missing something?
'Paskha! Paskha! Where are you?'
A happy smile appeared on Paskha's young face. Since Sharleen kept the flower, Paskha could hear the girl's voice every time Sharleen looked for him.
He didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing for him. Every time he practiced, ate, or bathed the girl's melodious voice would suddenly appear in his head without warning, making him sometimes jump in surprise.
