Before Masa Ed knew it, he was engulfed in white flame like a pillar that occupied the whole of the glowing center circle and was so tall it seemed to trespass into the territory of the simulated “hole in the sky” of the inner heaven above, almost reaching the three giant figures. Meanwhile, the cloaked figures on the tiered platform raised their lowered heads at the strange sight, and one of the two who stood in front of the golden circle turned to the other, who then looked away, backing the raging white flame.,

  Simultaneously, Masa Ed, who was engulfed by the white flame that made him close his eyes on instinct, folded his lips and shook his head after the recollection of the pillar of white flame that engulfed him prior to him waking up in the strange place—a recollection triggered by the white flame blazing around him soundlessly, which kick-started his supernatural experience that led him into the spiritual sphere of the world where he now stood.

  What’s with me and white flames? he wondered. Then in the next moment, his awareness delved deep, but it suddenly returned after it fetched an inspiration that surprised him. Smiling with mischief, he willed—and the white flame turned golden in response, changing according to his will as expected. Then, smiling again, he willed once more, and in response, the flame’s height reduced by some meters, though he couldn’t see it as he was engulfed by it.

  Let’s make it the half of thirty-six, he thought. Then, according to his will, the flame reduced again until it was eighteen meters tall, as perceived by those tracking its rise and fall beyond it; then it stabilized, as also perceived by the outside observers.

  Smiling warmly, Masa Ed slowly turned around, and though he couldn’t see the blazing flame clearly as his eyes were almost shut tight, he could sense a mysterious warmth it contained that reminded him of the times he read any of the three volumes of the BOOK OF WITNESS he once possessed.

  I wonder if this flame has to do with that flame pillar, he wondered, thinking about the pillar of white flame that was the last thing he witnessed before waking up in the memorable strange place. Then he stretched his arms, trying to feel more of the flame.

  How did I even go from that flame pillar to that strange place? Was I kidnapped? he wondered. Then, tired of standing, he went down and lay on the floor, ruminating.

  What’s actually with that flame pillar? Yes! At that time, I think I saw a black-and-white entity looking at me—how could I have forgotten? But still, can’t I conclude I was attacked by a practitioner? Or wait, maybe it happened that I was unlucky and was in the way of a spiritual attack that missed its target—hmm, that’s also plausible. Some practitioners might have been fighting around my place and I was just collateral damage. I will have to ask that bitch for the details… why is the flame still burning?

  Curious, Masa Ed quit his rumination. Then he stood up, looking unsure of what was going on until a light bulb went on in his head.

  “Ah! I have forgotten,” he blurted out, scratching his head.

  Then he willed, and in response, the golden flame disappeared, and he automatically opened his eyes having felt its absence. However, the cloaked lantern-bearing people who had been standing on the tiered-annular-platform like of an arena were gone, leaving only the two standing close to the glowing golden circle he stood on.

  Meanwhile, as he focused his gaze on one of the two remaining lantern-bearing cloaked figures, a projected voice reached him—the same one as before he stepped inside the golden circle.

  *Mr. Black, what did you experience?* it questioned, its tone powerful and authoritative yet soft and calming.

  However, Masa Ed ignored it. Instead, his eyes, which were focused on one of the two cloaked figures that was not probably responsible for the voice projection, lit up.

  It’s the bitch, he concluded and smiled.

  Then, as he made a middle-finger gesture at the cloaked figure, a voice transmission reached him.

  [“My King, you should leave. We will talk later,”] the voice urged, sounding exactly like Margaret.

  Smiling after having confirmed his guess, Masa Ed proceeded to leave the flame altar as instructed, passing between the two cloaked figures, one gazing at his retreating back. He paused as he exited the flame altar, reaching the waiting area that was devoid of people—except for Sugar coming toward him.

  Where is everyone? he wondered, looking around.

  “Master,” Sugar softly called out to him as she paused a meter in front of him.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  Then he turned to her and nodded. She led him to the pillar where the elevator that brought them was. After she placed her palm on it, its hidden door seam appeared as it receded a few inches inward and buoyed up, revealing the passage into the elevator they then entered.

  Afterward, Sugar pressed two keys on the control switch of the elevator, which was levitating above the elevator floor finished with exotic patterns, making the door come down and fit back into the wall. She and Masa Ed approached the first of the three L-shaped sectional sofa of the elevator and sat side by side before Masa Ed turned to lay his head on her lap, his legs stretched on the sofa seat and his eyes on the glowing white ceiling nine meters above the elevator floor.

  “So, Sugar, what is the deal with the fire baptism stuff?” he began, setting his eyes on hers as she lowered her head. “The height stuff and potential—how do they relate exactly?” he rephrased.

  Sugar, for a moment, paid the top of his white hair attention; she picked a strand of thread from it, then responded.

  “Master, it’s like this,” she explained. “A flame height of 33 to 36 meters represents the absolute peak potential of our world; initiates with that potential are almost nonexistent—we only have one or two in a generation. Behind them is the 24 to 33 mark; they are the average best of our world, and depending on how high the height of their flame is within that range, they are bound for the top of the spiritual world—they are our true successors. After their range is the 15 to 24 meter range—the average of our world—and behind them is the 9 to 15 range, the lowest potential possible.”

  “I see,” Masa Ed responded, pursing his lips and looking lost in thought before he resumed a moment later. “But why the grading? It’s not like it’s absolute, is it?”

  “No, Master.” Sugar shook her head faintly and smiled subtly. “Just like most top factions of our world, we have been grading initiates to know what to expect from them, how much pressure we can put on them, and most importantly, how many resources we should allocate to them. Our system is merit-based after all.”

  “Oh!” His eyes widened in realization. Then he smiled, having gained a deeper understanding—but in the next moment, he frowned; he had a flashback of his earlier flame baptism that was unlike those he observed.

  “Sugar!”

  “Yes, Master.” Sugar answered his call and tilted her head downward, looking at his face.

  He held her gaze, then began, “Do you know about my baptism? Do you know what my flame height is?”

  [“Master, from what Snow told me, I think what happened in your case will be chalked up to a malfunction in the Ether conduit; Mistress has made moves. It’s the height of the flame at the end that will be recorded.”] she explained, transmitting her voice via the astral.

  “So you are saying my flame height is eighteen? I am average?” Masa Ed scrunched his nose, his eyes beholding her incredibly beautiful face like that of a doll.

  [“Yes,”] she replied, transmitting her words. [“Master, I don’t believe you are average. I believe your potential might truly surpass the peak of our world. Together with Mistress and Night Lady Jasmine, we have been watching you since you were seven. The path you walked to the spiritual world might rival that of the Great King in uniqueness, and your uniqueness itself might even compare to that of Lord Humble Mario. I do think people will not believe your recorded potential in the future. They will suspect foul play.”]

  “Hmm.” Masa Ed smiled at her.

  She is really my type, he concluded, his smile becoming broader and warmer. She has already inferred I did something, and she is trying to warn me of its future repercussions without coming off as nosy—what a mind; she is wise, unlike that Tigress. That one is only smart and sensitive; she can’t rationalize her emotions yet. Well, until then, I have to be careful around her.

  After a careful reminder in his mind, Masa Ed returned his attention to reality; his eyes turned to focus on Sugar.

  “Sugar, the most important thing right now is time,” he told her in a soft whispering voice. Then he turned his head on her lap before facing her again more comfortably. “Before the attention of the world is on me, I need time to make preparations. Whatever happens in the future, with proper preemptive measures in place, I shouldn’t have a big problem—I hope…”

  Sugar chimed in; she transmitted her voice. [“Master, have you decided to become the king of the spiritual world?”]

  “Nahhh, heavens forbid!” Masa Ed replied sharply, frowning with disgust. “I am not interested and I will never be interested. My only goal right now is to regain my stolen freedom. I hate to be here. I can already see all the annoying and disgusting stuff I will experience coming soon. Your world is just another version of our mortal high society but one with inhuman force. There is no way I will want to remain a second here if I can leave.”

  As Masa Ed concluded, Sugar framed his face, smiling warmly as she peered into his eyes that met hers with curiosity.

  What’s with her? Masa wondered, subtly knitting his brown.

  “What?” he blurted out.

  “Nothing, Master.” Sugar shook her head and let go of his face. “Master, I think we have reached our destination,” she added, her eyes on the lift control switch about a meter away.

  “Okay,” Masa Ed responded. He lifted his head from her thigh, sitting upright before he planted his bare feet on the floor and stood up.

  Meanwhile, Sugar approached the control switch. She pressed a key on it, which in turn revealed the seam of the elevator’s hidden door—a door-cut wall slab—that then automatically glided inward a few inches and buoyed up, revealing the doorway. Beyond it was a wide space illuminated by astral flames from wall cressets on a golden brick wall on the right.

  Then they both stepped out of the elevator and onto the golden floor of the wide space, which revealed itself to be a corridor. As they continued along it, moving away from the pillar the elevator was integrated with, curious, Masa Ed looked behind his left shoulder and caught sight of the entrance of a stairwell of ascending steps between the elevator pillar and another one.

  “Sugar, I guess we are underground?” he inquired, turning to face her as they approach the exit of the 20-meter-wide corridor that is somewhat far in the distance.

  “Yes, Master,” Sugar replied, moving closer to him. “Master, we are going to Desahy Arena; it’s where the others are.”

  “I see.” Masa Ed smiled, his eyes on a narrower passage beyond the corridor, where he could see people gathered.