The night air was thick with an unfamiliar tension. Njuwa and Jengo stood beside the stream, the moon casting pale light over the water's gentle ripples. Nyoka had just introduced them to a power neither of them fully understood—a force flowing through all things, unseen but ever-present.
Njuwa could still feel the faint pulse he had sensed earlier. It was weak, barely noticeable, but it was there, lingering beneath the surface of his awareness. He clenched his fists, determined to grasp it fully.
Nyoka studied them with piercing eyes. "You have taken your first step, but feeling the energy is not the same as controlling it. Now, you must learn how to harness it."
Jengo let out an exaggerated sigh. "How do we do that? Meditate under the moon? Breathe in the wind? Listen to the trees?"
Nyoka smirked. "Close your eyes."
Jengo groaned but obeyed, as did Njuwa.
"Breathe," she instructed, her voice calm but firm. "In through your nose. Hold it. Now exhale through your mouth."
They followed her rhythm, inhaling and exhaling in slow, measured intervals.
"Feel the world around you," Nyoka continued. "The air is not just empty space. It carries life, energy, power. The ground beneath you is not just dirt—it is a foundation of strength. The water flowing beside you is not just liquid—it is movement, change, adaptability."
Njuwa focused, letting her words guide him. He imagined himself as part of the world, not separate from it. The cool night breeze brushed against his skin. The earth was firm beneath his feet. The distant hoot of an owl echoed through the trees.
And then—he felt it.
A faint warmth, rising from deep within his core, as if something inside him had begun to stir. It was like a sleeping beast, sluggish but powerful, stretching its limbs for the first time in ages.
His eyes snapped open, heart pounding. "I felt it again."
Nyoka nodded. "Good. Now hold onto that feeling."
Jengo grumbled beside him. "I don't feel a damn thing."
Nyoka smirked. "Patience, Jengo. You are like a stubborn ox trying to push a mountain. You cannot force the energy—you must allow it to flow."
Jengo grunted but closed his eyes again.
Njuwa, however, focused on the sensation within him. The warmth flickered like a small flame, wavering but steady. He tried to guide it, to move it, but it resisted, slipping from his grasp like water through his fingers.
Nyoka watched him struggle, then spoke. "Do not try to control it like a rope in your hands. Energy is not a tool—it is a part of you. Guide it as you would guide your breath."
Njuwa took a slow breath, relaxing his mind. Instead of forcing the energy, he welcomed it, allowing it to flow naturally. The warmth pulsed again, stronger this time.
His vision wavered. For a brief moment, he felt something beyond himself—an awareness of the air moving around him, the shifting of the earth, the life pulsing in the trees.
And then, it was gone.
He gasped, breaking the connection.
Nyoka's expression was unreadable. "You glimpsed it, didn't you?"
Njuwa nodded, breathless. "It was… overwhelming."
She smiled. "That is the beginning of cultivation."
Jengo, still struggling, let out a frustrated groan. "This is impossible."
Nyoka walked over and smacked him lightly on the head. "Stop thinking like a brute. Energy does not respond to force."
Jengo scowled. "Then what does it respond to?"
Nyoka turned, gazing at the sky. "To understanding. To balance."
Jengo crossed his arms but said nothing.
Njuwa, still buzzing with the faint remnants of his experience, clenched his fists. This was only the beginning. He had glimpsed something powerful, something vast. If he could learn to control it, to master it, he would no longer be weak.
He would no longer be powerless.
---
The next morning, Nyoka introduced them to a new form of training.
"You have felt the energy," she said, "but now you must strengthen your bodies to withstand it."
She led them to a clearing where several large stones sat. Some were as small as a fist, others as large as a man's torso.
"Pick one," she instructed.
Njuwa chose a stone slightly bigger than his head, its surface rough and uneven. Jengo, still grumbling from the night before, grabbed one the size of a barrel.
Nyoka smirked. "You will carry these stones everywhere you go. You will sleep with them, eat with them, train with them. They will become part of you."
Jengo groaned. "Again with the ridiculous training."
Nyoka shrugged. "You are free to quit."
Jengo glared at her but said nothing.
Njuwa, despite the weight of the stone in his arms, felt a thrill of excitement. This was more than just physical training. It was a test of endurance, of discipline. If his body grew stronger, his ability to harness energy would improve.
And so, the days passed.
They ran through the forest with stones strapped to their backs. They climbed trees, sparred with staffs, and balanced on logs, all while carrying the added weight. Their muscles screamed in protest, but they did not stop.
At night, Njuwa lay on his back, feeling the weight of the stone against his chest. His fingers were raw from gripping it all day, but he did not complain. This pain was temporary.
Strength was permanent.
---
Weeks passed.
Njuwa and Jengo's bodies hardened. Their arms no longer trembled under the weight of the stones. Their legs no longer burned after running for hours. Their breaths remained steady even after sparring.
And slowly, Njuwa's connection to the energy deepened.
He could sense it more easily now—not just within himself, but in the world around him. The wind carried whispers of power. The earth thrummed beneath his feet.
One evening, as he meditated by the stream, he reached out again.
This time, the warmth inside him surged forward, stronger than before.
The air around him stirred. The water rippled as if responding to his presence.
For the first time, he was not just sensing the energy—he was moving it.
His eyes flew open in shock.
Nyoka, who had been watching from nearby, nodded approvingly. "You are ready for the next step."
Njuwa's heart pounded. He was ready.
Ready to step beyond weakness.
Ready to begin his true path.