Radiant Age, Winter, 1115
"When there are strong shadows nearby, you can move within them. It takes concentration and focus if you wish to move where you want to be."
Maxwell held out his large hatchet as we faced one another in the snow. It piled up over the week, but he still moved about it without any struggles.
"This is called Shadow Walking, Feodora."
Suddenly, he rushed to me.
"If you don't want to die, you'll do just that."
Maxwell had no intention of coddling me any longer. So, I concentrated on the darkest spots nearby. My mind wanted it to be a part of that shadow. The blood in my body boiled, and the feeling of me being one with the shadow came into my heart. I felt a cold but equally warm feeling rise in my body as I began to melt away.
"Ah!"
I cried as I appeared from the shadow to the east of us. His hatchet struck in my place, and the area around him erupted in a demonic purple. He was using his spectrum magic at the highest level. Maxwell… was terribly powerful.
"Good. Now let's keep practicing until the sun comes up."
"Yes, Maxwell."
Radiant Age, Fall, 14th, 1117
"Spectrum magic is our world's weapon. Our spectrum magic is the dark element."
I held a wooden sword in my hand. Only two years older, at the age of ten, I faced him in the same arena. Autumn leaves blanketed our battlefield.
"Channel your spectrum into your weapon else I'll break it in half and slice your head off, Feodora!"
Maxwell slashed his hatchet at me. I tried to draw my emotions into my blade, but the weapon broke and before it finished me off, he stopped.
"Your enemies won't stop. Next time is the last time I show forgiveness."
He held his head high in the twilight.
"Your spectrum is your power. When you learn to control it, it will protect you. Grab another sword and try again."
I rushed over to the collection of at least a hundred or so wooden swords. He made me craft them throughout the year before I was able to wield one. Before we started these practices around six months ago, we had roughly five-hundred or so of them. Meaning… I've messed up nearly four-hundred times.
"A-Are we going to use all of these?"
The beast known as Maxwell didn't respond. When he did that… he was angry. I took the hint, grabbed the next sword, and rushed back over to him.
"Channel that spectrum magic in your sword and defend yourself!"
He raised it high and swung it down on me. My wooden blade cracked as I felt his power race through my body. I fell to my knees as the shock knocked me over. I was tired from training, and my confidence was waning.
"Are you even trying to live?! Do you want to die?!"
I started trembling. He already warned me that he wouldn't hesitate any longer. I thought about the orphanage when those girls beat me up and treated me like a monster. They ridiculed me by calling me banshee and making my life a living hell. How they threw me away like trash and tried to kill me. It made me angry that I couldn't fight back.
"I want to live. I-I do want to live, Maxwell."
I hated those people… all of them. They made me feel like my life was meaningless. But that wasn't true. Maxwell was showing me that even I should have a chance to live. He was giving me a chance to realize that I have a reason to live.
"I want to keep living."
Firmly, I said as I took to my feet.
I could feel the blood in my body pulse as the spectrum magic resonated in my wooden blade. It darkened to a pitch black. Maxwell brought down his hatchet again and I felt the shockwave ripple through my body. I fell to the ground and hit my butt on a nearby rock.
"Oww…"
He towered over me, and I was afraid he was going for another strike. But instead, he placed his hatchet to the side.
"Feodora, look at your weapon."
On the ground, the wooden blade was cracked from the first blow. But it wasn't destroyed by the second. I marveled at it as he bent down and looked me in the eye. His cheek was a tad wet as if he was crying. On my legs, his tears hit me. I was unsure how to respond.
"Maxwell?"
"Feodora, you showed me how you are willing to live. That weapon didn't break because your determination wasn't wavering in the slightest."
He touched my head with his cold hands. They were cold but always nice to me. Gently, he rubbed my head from side to side. My slightly longer hair was matted from the dirt and grime. But it showed a testament to my growth.
"Are you ready to truly learn how to live, Feodora?"
The people in the orphanage were horrible to me. The mother and kids and everyone else who came to visit. Everyone in this world that I knew was cold and heartless.
But this man, the scariest one of them all, was nurturing me…
"I want to live. Please, teach me how to be stronger so I can live!"
At the age of ten I cried not out of fear but out of determination.
"I want to learn how to live, Maxwell!"
He rigorously taught me all that he knew. How to fish, how to hunt, what foods to eat, and what not to. I had to make my own clothing from the material I gathered.
If I got hurt, I would bandage myself up. If I was sick, I'd treat myself with the symptoms I discovered. He wasn't easy on me either. But out of everything, I learned how to love the night and move in the shadows. How being alone was the right path for people like us. Every morning, I woke up, I would pick up that black box and try to open it. But no matter how hard I tried… it remained closed.
Radiant Age, Spring, 1120
"In the world of Prism, there are six spectrum vessel types. Fire, water, wind, earth, holy and dark."
"I understand, Maxwell!"
"However, there is a seventh element created by the Radiant race. It is unnatural, and its properties are unpredictable. We call this the chaos element."
He taught me rigorously how the world of battle worked. At the age of thirteen, I faced off with Maxwell once more. He gave me the silver katana that he showed when I was eight. I learned how to properly use a blade today. In the twilight of the day, we looked at one another in anticipation.
"You will always assess what kind of powers they have before fighting back. Everyone will normally only possess one of the six elements."
He pulled his foot back.
"Us being the vessel of dark, we cannot use other magic elements besides dark at their fullest. We are creatures of the dark spectrum. Our power lies there."
He vanished, and I felt his presence roll around the shadows cast in our arena.
"No, you don't!"
I dodged to the side, avoiding my mentor. He appeared out of the shadow that I cast from my own. It was clever, but I parried him. With his hatchet, he caught my blow. Fire magic swirled in his hand, and he shot it my way.
I evaded and the fire seared my jacket. I rolled on the ground to put out the fire.
"Tsk, how did you channel fire? I thought darkness was our only ability?"
I demanded answers.
I was confused. Maxwell and I were both born with dark magic flowing through our blood. I couldn't understand how he was able to use a fire spectrum. Once more he towered over me. I liked to believe he was smirking at me though that demonic mask.
"Every vessel who has the power to use spectrum can tap into the abilities of another element."
He pointed his hatchet at me.
"Even you can use the other five elements. Fire, Water, Wind, Earth and even Holy."
My blade's edge touched the grass as I focused on my teacher.
"I can use them too?"
He heated up his hatchet's blade, likely using the fire spectrum to do it.
"I can use all manners of spectrum… but they are weak in comparison to my chosen bloodline. At birth, I was a creature of the dark. At death, I will remain the same. Same as you, Feodora."
He rushed at me. As he swung, fire radiated from his blade. It was clear to me as I dodged. I understood his lesson all the more. This wouldn't have been a surprise… if I knew what I was up against before.
"Always… know what I'm up against."
I put his lesson in my heart as he cut me and blasted me. I rolled into a tree. A lesson learned the hard way. I always needed to know what I was up against before attacking.
"If you know their main spectrum magic, you can better prepare yourself. But always assume that they can use every element. When you understand what their main element is, you will be at an advantage."
He was cold as he approached. He towered over me, casting a large shadow on the ground.
"That is the law of battle, Feodora!"
Maxwell raised his hatchet above me, I countered by darkening my blade, connecting it, and saving my life in the process.
"No, you don't!"
I flipped up and repaired my battle stance. I couldn't tell behind his skull mask, but I could feel he was pleased.
Radiant Age, Winter, 1124
The day after my eighteenth birthday, I was running in the night. Shadows followed behind me as they relentlessly tried to catch me.
"There are thirteen forms of shadow crafts I want you to master, Feodora. I will push them into your mind and make your body do them even as you struggle to sleep."
In the night, I ran with the sound of wolves chasing behind me. From above, Maxwell tracked my movements.
"There are creatures called beasts in this world. They appeared roughly one thousand years ago. They feed on two manners of a man. Strong emotions and spectrum magic."
Maxwell's cold voice echoed through the night.
Out of the trees, silver wolves howled at me as they attempted to strike me down. There were four of them, stronger than the first one I ever faced. But I wasn't the same eight-year-old girl from back then. The wolf attacked me from behind. I melted away into the shadow of the night to dodge its strike.
"You must learn to defend yourself; kill them before they strike you down!"
"Yes, Maxwell!"
I appeared from the shadows cast from the trees above. I took my silver blade that darkened over time and held it with both hands. The first form was complete. I was ready to release my deadly strike.
"Ha!"
With determination feeding through my body, I sliced down, cutting the first wolf in half. Its body disappeared into a white powder.
"Three more."
I reminded myself as I focused. I watched them move about the darkness trying to corner me. But over time something changed in me. I could see them as clear as day. Slowly, the night was becoming my ally just as Maxwell told me.
"Beasts come in all manner of sizes, Feodora. Some are small like these. Others are huge, and their only need is to feed on our spectrum."
His words burrowed into my memory as I faced the remaining three wolves attempting to hunt me down.
"All vessels are born with spectrum in their blood. We attract beast to feed on us."
I held out my hand and gathered the spectrum magic around me, effectively enticing the beast to strike me down. The last three all came at once, drawn to the magic around me.
"In order for these beasts to survive, they must feed on us. So, for you to survive, Feodora…"
"Se!"
I held my blade next to me and spun it in a horizontal arc. The dark magic expanded from my blade as it cut them down, casting their white dust to fly across the battlefield. The wind erupted from my strike, destroying the nearby trees.
"In order for me to survive I must strike them down first."
Resolute in my determination, the battle was over.
"It's over, Maxwell…"
I smirked as I turned around and tripped on a rock. My body fumbled on the ground. I prayed silently that Maxwell didn't witness that blunder.
"Feodora are you alright?"
There in the moonlight, my mentor stood over me, with his hand reached out.