Moon kept the output low. He was sitting in the middle of his living room, and the last thing he needed was to burn the house down or crack the foundation beneath him. He certainly didn't want to his new home to become a smoking crater.
He held the elements steady and turned his attention to the acupoint. He could feel the spiritual energy inside it responding to the skill, a faint pull, like two magnets slowly drifting toward each other. But the connection was weak and fragile. Every time he tried to push the skill deeper into the acupoint's foundation, the thread slipped away.
Moon adjusted his approach and tried again. And again.
Each attempt brought him a little closer. He could feel the rhythm of it now, the way the spiritual energy needed to be coaxed rather than forced. The skill had to settle naturally, like sediment drifting to the bottom of still water.
Half an hour passed. Then an entire hour!
