The Sixth School

Author's note.

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All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...

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Chapter Twenty Seven: Willpower...

Greg walked to his room with a bowl of water in his hands. Greg was not sure why she was even doing this. The familiar may have been a flesh and blood being but Greg had never seen her eat or drink anything. He doubted that Olivia had told him to get the water so that she could drink it. Still, he complied with the familiar's wishes and brought it into his room

There, Greg found Olivia seated cross-legged on a mat beside his bed. Greg didn't even know if there was such a concept as thongs in this world. There was, however, no other way of describing the skimpy little thing that was just barely covering her plump pussy lips. Greg almost stumbled when he caught sight of her seated in a compromising position. Shame, however, seemed to be an entirely foreign concept to Olivia. When she noticed where he was looking, her smile only grew wider as she uncrossed her legs to give an even better view. "See something you like master?" she posed in a coquettish tone.

It took all of Greg's will to keep from giving in to the familiar's charms. "I brought the water you wanted," He said raising his bowl to obscure his view of that delectable peach. There were a number of reasons why, despite her obvious willingness, Greg didn't try and bed Olivia. The main reason, however, was simply because he was wary of her. After all that he had learned about her so far, Greg just couldn't help but keep his guard up whenever she was around. The avatar may have been on his side due to the orders left to her by the original, But as easily as she was on his side, if her original wished so, she could just as easily turn on him. Even more dauntingly, Greg didn't even know what the original was after. It was just simply impossible for him to put his trust in a being whose ends he didn't even know.

There was no disappointment on Olivia's face as she sat cross-legged once more. "Place it here and sit there," She indicated. Greg complied and in a few seconds, they were seated cross-legged on the mat facing each other with the bowl of water between them. Right up to this point, Greg still didn't know what the familiar was trying to achieve. When Olivia's expression became serious, however, Greg knew that they were about to get to the meat of the issue.

"There are three levels to willpower," Olivia spoke up calmly. "Resistance, Perseverance, and Self," Olivia listed out. "Resistance, while commendable doesn't last. Those with this kind of willpower can resist powerful incentives, whether good or bad, but only for a short while," She explained. "People with this kind of willpower could probably survive through a torture session without breaking. In other words, they can resist being coerced or manipulated into a certain action. This, however, is only under the condition that it doesn't last," She informed him. "Being tortured for a night, while terrible, is nothing compared to the thought that one might be tortured for a month. One who would never break from a night of torture, might not be able to hold up as well if they knew that the torture would last a whole year. In the same breath, some people might not be willing to betray their principles for momentary pleasure or gain. But what if they could be promised years of peace and pleasure? How many that can resist the first, would be able to resist the latter?" She asked rhetorically.

"This is where the second level of willpower comes in," The familiar informed him. "Perseverance," She called out. "At this level of willpower, the period that one can be put to the test is a lot more extended. Trying to break such a person is very hard as they can last anywhere from a few days to whole years under pressure. To attain this level of willpower, one requires much more than what the resistance willpower requires of you. A tough exterior may be enough for one to grit their teeth and push through a torture session. When what you thought to be short-term pain morphs into a continuous onslaught of unrelenting pain, even the toughest of men eventually begin to ask themselves why they have to go through it. I've seen the most physically intimidating individuals you can imagine being reduced into a quivering mess after a few days of torture. I've also seen others you wouldn't expect to survive a stiff breeze go on for months, even years, in conditions that you wouldn't even dare to believe exist. The difference between the two has always been a single factor. A single factor that morphs simple resistance into a persevering will that remains unbroken even in the face of the harshest adversity!"

"What is it?" Greg couldn't help but ask.

"Faith," The answer came simply. Greg had been expecting any number of answers. A strong mind, discipline, a strict training schedule, heck, even something as nebulous as fortitude and grit would have been a more expected answer than the one that he got from the familiar. Going by the smile he could see on Olivia's face, she could pick up on his skepticism and had clearly expected it.

"Faith?" Greg found himself inquisitively repeating the word.

"Don't get me wrong Greg," Olivia replied "I am not speaking about faith in the religious sense," She informed him. "Or, at least, not exclusively in the religious sense," she clarified. "The difference between those who only have the first level of willpower and those who have the second is whether they have a belief, a reason, a principle, or a guiding light that keeps them from falling apart. Or as I like to call it, faith. One thing that you believe in above all else that can hold the rest of you together. A man who would have never lasted through an hour of torture, endured days of excruciating pain simply because it would allow his children to get away from people who would harm them. An official who was not that powerful stood up to a criminal entity that made his life a living hell. He didn't have much to gain from opposing them and everything to lose and yet, despite losing everything, including those he loved, he never waivered or turned back simply because he truly believed in justice. A woman wouldn't say anything even under the pain of torture simply because she believed that her speech had the power to destroy the world in an instant," She reported.

"If she didn't say anything, how do you know the reason why she didn't speak?" Greg couldn't help but ask despite knowing that it was beside the point.

"She wrote the reason down," The familiar answered with an amused smile. Greg was left speechless.

Despite her amusement at the look on his face, Olivia continued to speak. "Peel all the layers of a man back, master, and what you find at the center isn't flesh and blood. It's a belief. It's something that they have chosen to subordinate everything else to. For some, it's their family. For some, it's the pursuit of riches and pleasure. For some, it's faith in a higher power and for others, it's the pursuit of power itself," She relayed. "I can train and help you gain the first level of willpower. Making you tough enough to not be broken by pleasure or pain I can all too easily do. What I can't do, however, is give you that thing to believe in," She relayed.

"It doesn't have to be a grand ambition. It doesn't have to make sense to anyone else other than you. It doesn't even have to be something that others think to be possible. What it does have to be, however, is something you truly believe. Most people have something that sounds nice as the thing they profess to believe in. That kind of shallow anchor, however, can only hold when things are calm and all is well in life," She declared. "Whatever it is you choose to believe in master, it needs to be something you believe in so deeply that even when life is at its roughest, you can still hold on and keep forging forward. Otherwise, master, when one of life's storms comes along, you won't be able to survive it," She stated.

Greg was silent for a long time. The familiar's words rang true in his mind and at the same time made him acutely aware of the fact that he didn't have any such anchor. Greg had the ambition to grow to become the most powerful mage he could possibly become. But was that his 'faith' as Olivia called it? Was it something that would keep him going through the worst of times? Part of him wanted to say yes! Of course, his desire to grow stronger was an anchor that could survive any storm life threw his way. A small part of him, however, just couldn't get behind this. It felt false, it felt weak. It was no better than those flowery statements that people claimed they believed in, as Olivia stated. But then if that wasn't it, Greg was forced to admit that he didn't even know what it was. Worse still, he didn't even know where to start in looking. Greg knew that it wasn't going to be quick or easy to find this anchor. He, however, had the feeling that it would be a crucial part of his journey if he ever hoped to reach the top.

"What's the self level willpower?" Knowing he wouldn't be finding his anchor any time soon, Greg chose to turn his attention to this last level of willpower that the familiar was yet to speak on.

"The self willpower is different from the other two levels of willpower," Olivia replied. "Unlike resistance or perseverance, self willpower isn't about how long you can resist temptation or torture," She stated. "Instead, it's about how much of you remains after you go through the storms of life. You've probably heard that people show their true colors when things go awry. However, make no mistake, things can get so bad that it warps people. Just as fire purifies, it can also reduce a pristine structure into unrecognizable slag. If you are strong enough to survive years of torture, but on the other side of that torture you are left a cold and bitter husk of what you used to be, then did you really survive it?" The familiar posed. "If after years of pleasure, you are left a warped version of who you formerly were, then did you really survive? " she asked a different way.

Greg could feel his brows furrow. "Why would pleasure warp a person?" He asked. Greg could see how years of pain and misery could destroy a person leaving them a shell of who they used to be. But how could years of pleasure warp somebody?

For the first time since Greg met her, a laugh escaped from Olivia. Even though nothing was said, from the sound alone, Greg could tell that the familiar thought him to be exceedingly naïve. There was a look of something akin to pity in the familiar's eyes as she regarded him. It was almost as if she was looking at an innocent child that hadn't yet been exposed to the ugly reality of the world. "Pain is harsh and jarring," She stated. "It can't be denied, explained away, or reasoned with! When you are subjected to it, you'll know it," she explained. "Pleasure... pleasure, on the other hand, is a silent poison. You won't even notice it as it slowly seeps into your system. When subjected to pain, you will try to run away from it. When it comes to pleasure, however, you'll be the one seeking it out. Even more terrifying to consider is the fact that you might even be aware of what this pleasure is doing to you, and yet you won't stop," She relayed. "I'm not, for even a second making light of how much pain people can be made to suffer," Olivia clarified. "However, when it comes to corrupting people and twisting them into something not even they could recognize, then pain doesn't even have half the power that pleasure has in that respect," Olivia relayed. "Pain may break you but pleasure... pleasure will make a slave of you!" She stated in a grave tone.

Hearing her speak, Greg realized that he'd only been considering the situation on a surface level. It now occurred to him just how insidious pleasure can be, whether it be in the form of drugs, riches, regard from others, sexual pleasure, or any other positive reinforcement, one wouldn't be able to notice the subtle ways that it was changing them. They would remain blissfully unaware of what was happening to them, thinking that they were in control until one day they wake up and find themselves at the point where they are unable to go without that pleasure and at the mercy of those that can provide it.

"The willpower of self is about understanding oneself," Olivia spoke up after having given him time to digest her words. "It's about having a clear picture of not only who you are, but also who you wish to become," The familiar explained. "Once you have some notion of both, you're only half of the way there. The other half involves remaining true to this vision of yourself regardless of what comes along," Olivia said. "Needless to say, master, I can't tell you who you are or who you should become," She added.

"I'll do my best to give you both a tough body and mind, master, but to attain the higher levels of willpower, is a task that can only be achieved by you," She informed him. "There is no shortcut to It or a prescribed way of achieving a persevering will or a strong will of self. For that you will have to dig deep within yourself and do your best to be honest about what you find there," She relayed.

"So what was the purpose of the bowl of water?" Greg finally spoke up, breaking the long silence that had followed the familiar's words.

"Oh, that was to train your willpower," She said. A brow rose on Greg's face. He couldn't see how a bowl of water could be used to train him. Still, he said nothing, knowing that Olivia would eventually explain. "For the next one hundred breaths, you are not allowed to drink the water in the bowl," She said. Even if someone took six seconds to take each breath, it would only take ten minutes to reach a hundred breaths. Greg wasn't thirsty, to begin with. So how this was supposed to train his willpower, Greg didn't even know. "You can either talk to me or just count the breaths to pass the time. Either is fine, the time begins now" the familiar added.

Immediately after she said this, Greg started to get a dry feeling at the back of his throat. At first, the feeling was mild. In the first ten breaths, Greg only swallowed repeatedly as his throat felt parched. In the following ten, his mouth started to dry up. No matter how many times he swallowed, Greg just couldn't get any saliva to his parched throat. Between the twenty-first and the thirtieth breath, Greg's body began to feel like it hadn't gotten any water for a day. Thus far, Greg had held Olivia's gaze as she quietly smiled at him, Unable to help himself, however, Greg couldn't help but glance down at the bowl of water as it clicked how it was supposed to train his willpower.

The familiar wasn't going to stop him if he tried to pick up the bowl and drink the water within. Her aim wasn't to torture him, it was to bolster his willpower. How long Greg fought his own desires was entirely up to him. Greg who was seated cross-legged could feel his fingernails digging into his knees as he forced himself to look back up at the familiar and away from the now alluring bowl of water.

"So, are you prepared to host the town head tomorrow?" Olivia posed.

Greg knew that she had taken pity on him and chosen to engage him in conversation to distract him from his thirst. Despite knowing this, however, Greg latched onto the subject like a drowning man at a straw. "What do you mean?" He posed in a hoarse voice, his confusion was evident. "I'm not anyone prominent in the town," He said. "Why would the town head attend my father's send-off ceremony?" He asked.

A smile crossed Olivia's face. "You are so naïve and innocent, it's almost cute, master," She said "You are the student of a seventh-tier mage," she declared. "To put into perspective what that means, even in a mid-size kingdom, the crown prince would have to bow in your presence, in one of those large kingdoms, you'd have the same standing as a member of the royal family. It's only in the age-old empires that the fact that the healer is your teacher wouldn't mean much to those in the highest echelons of power," Olivia explained.

Greg wanted to immediately reply, however, another ten breaths had already gone by and suddenly, it started to feel like razors were coursing up and down his insides as his body clamored for water. Part of Greg's mind was convinced that he would die of thirst if he didn't reach forward, pick up the bowl and drink everything down. By now, only forty breaths of time had passed and it was already clear to Greg that there was no way he would make it to a hundred. Still, not willing to give in until he was at his very limits, Greg forced himself to keep looking at the familiar as he croaked in a hoarse voice. "The town head may not necessarily know that the healer is a seventh-tier mage, " He countered. "For all they know, she might just be a normal healer no different from those that can be found in other places," he added.

"Only a fool assumes that everyone else is a fool, master," She replied. "Weakened as she is, if that woman put her mind to it, she could decimate this town and everyone in it. Do you honestly believe that your town head has gone for six years blissfully unaware of the potential complete annihilation of his town walking around in the form of a healer?" Olivia rhetorically posed. When she put it that way, Greg felt that she was more than likely right. There was no way the town head didn't know about the healer and what she was truly capable of. "Chances are that, even the three major families of this little town know about her," Olivia hazarded a guess. "During the six years she had been here, she never took on a student of her own. The town head's daughter only became her student probably after paying a stiff price for it. And even then she only teaches Shalia about herbs and potions made without magic," She relayed. "You, however, come along and somehow convince the healer to take you on as a student without much fanfare! Trust me when I say that the town head will be present!" Olivia declared in a firm tone. "Members of the other three families too probably," She added.

This last statement, however, was completely lost on Greg as he fell to the side, curled up like a shrimp. From the look of agony on his face, it was clear that he was struggling with everything he had to keep from reaching forward for the bowl. The familiar couldn't help but smile. She had expected the boy to give in during the previous ten-breath cycle. That he had made it this far was commendable. She could, however, see that he wouldn't make it through this one.

"T... t... tier one," Olivia heard the boy, who was still on his side, speak in a voice barely above a whisper. "I. I think I... should buy them... some tier one meat to present... to present to them," He haltingly said.

Olivia couldn't help but arch an eyebrow at the boy, not having expected him to try and continue the conversation despite the agony he was clearly in. Was he trying to push past another ten breaths? Olivia didn't know, still, she respected his tenacity, and so she continued to engage him. "No need," Olivia replied. "Your best bet tomorrow is to try to remain as neutral as possible," She advised.

"W... why... is that?" Greg asked.

"From your memories, I know that there are three prominent families in this town. The town head, however, does not have a family of his own that is as powerful as any of the other three," She voiced. "I can't, however, seem to find in your memories the reason why this is so. Or how the town head can suppress the other three families and maintain a hold on the reins of power in this town," She stated. "Do you not know the reason this is so? Or do you just not remember?" She questioned.