"The sword of the king decimates, the commandment of the king divides, the heart of the king brings forth life."
With a flash Jahan felt Magoi pool into his crown and transform the metal vessel into the immaculate crimson blade which emanated strength. It was back, no more pain and no more bull shit. Jahan grinned. He remembered his purpose again in life, and was prepared to take it once again.
"I have to get stronger." Jahan said to himself before throwing his shirt off, taking a look at his body, he noticed hs muscles weren't as defined. He gritted his teeth, he had let himself go, while he wasn't fat, as a fanalis his body was a symbol of pride and power.
"Real smooth Jahangir" he said verbally condemning himself. With a sigh he began a run, and he ran longer and faster than he had in months. He had to get his body back into pristine shape, So it was a full hell course fanalas strength boot camp, Jahan style. After the run, he did a solid 400 push ups, that is per arm. He practiced his swordsmanship for hours, and then began his daily meditation. At the end of it, he felt renewed, it was work, but it was as if he had worked of years of weight from his shoulders. He didnt really get it, what he had been doing for the last month, wasting time? He was supposed to be uniting the world, moving it towards something better.
"First I'll have to start with myself" Jahan said before sighing. He stood up, remembering the form of power that the blue haird magician had assumed while they were in the jail. It was all a strangely intimidating experience, their where so many more powerful beings in that room than Jahan. It was overwhelming, but then again who where they?
Did they deserve power? Was power safe in their hands in the first place. Jahan shook his head, in order to fulfill his oath and become the man he wanted to be he needed great power. Much more than what he had at the moment.
His incompetence, that which he had showed in the dungeon did nothing more than to anger him now. He was sick of being suck, screw being sorry, fuck self pity. He would go out and claim what he wanted and show the world that he had the ability.
Jahan focused his magoi into his crown, concentrating as much as he could, forcing massive amounts of magoi into the crown. He focused, his desire to solve the mystery behind the form he so desired, he had been giving his efforts to conquer this power but all seemed to fail. It had been over the span of months, him trying only to fail again, time after time. He just didnt understand it at all. This time however he was even more determined to get it, he couldnt allow himself any more failure time. He had already had enough of that.
"The sword of the king decimates, the commandment of the king divides, the heart of the king brings forth life." Jahan spoke those words again like his life had depended on them. The illustrious flash appeared again, and like many other failed attempts, his crown simply disappeared forming into the crimson blade.
"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!" Jahan shouted in frustration, birds would flee from the monstrous yell of the boy. Everything became silent again for a second, and Jahan flopped on the ground feeling defeated.
"There has to be something I'm not getting"Jahan thought to himself. He contemplated finding the blue haired man, going up to him and simply asking him to teach him how to do it. The idea almost made Jahangir barf.
"No theres no way in heaven hell or Earth that i'll go seeking answers from any of them" Jahan spoke. It was true, the boy had the pride of a lion, much like his father or any other ember of the fanalis race. He couldnt show anyone another drop of inability, not now and definitely not with this. Jhan sighed and started to think in efforts to solve the peculiar puzzle. If anything this was perhaps the hardest amount of training he had ever went through simply because he had no idea where to begin. He had to just figure it out, fighting had been something that came naturally to Jahan. As a fanalis and a boy raised by military men, it simply felt right.
Him as a scholar, not so much. Solving the equation of why he couldnt transform was no simple task. He knew very little about magic or rukh or even djinns. What he did know very well was magoi, but no matter how much energy he put into the transformation. His technique was practically flawless, there was nobody who put the time and effort into developing their magoi and their ability to control it as him. Regardless he sought answers, and what did he do when he dd that? Meditated.
The boy gathered his belongings, he moved in an effort to find a more suitable place to train. He ended up going deeper, far deeper into the forest. Following his gut more so than any path, he simply wanted to gain even more solitude. He would find a opening to a cave in the forest, a tiny spec of light shining through the otherwise pitch black darkness. Jahan walked into the cave, not being the type of man to fear much of anything. He wandered deeply in, until he came across the source of the light, which was a 3 meter thick gap in the ceiling, creating a sort of skylight.
Jahan sat down in the middle of the Skylight, crossing his legs into lotus position and placing Gremorie's Crimson blade over his lap. He laced his fingers, and then there was silence. Jahan meditated, going from simple to more complex ones, time moved by rapidly, however everything was still for the boy. Things had remained that way for a while, everyday Jahan meditated concentrating on his Weapon equip. Trying to look for answers within himself.