The training hall was empty now, save for Elizabeth and Cedric. The late afternoon sun streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting prismatic patterns across the stone floor. Elizabeth studied Cedric with an intensity that made his skin prickle—not with fear, but with the uneasy sense that she could see straight through him.
"Most nobles," she began, crossing her arms, "begin elemental training as soon as they can walk. By the time they reach the Academy's second or third year, with enough discipline, they can manifest their element in its rawest form." She tilted her head. "You, however, did it on your first try."
Cedric remained silent, his shadow stretching unnaturally long behind him in the fading light.
Elizabeth's golden eyes narrowed. "When did you first learn to wield darkness?"
"Seven," Cedric said simply.
A beat passed. Then Elizabeth let out a slow breath. "Seven. And you survived?"
Cedric's gaze flickered to the window. "Barely."
Most children who awakened an element that young burned out—or worse, were consumed by it. The fact that Cedric stood here, perfectly intact, was nothing short of a miracle.
Elizabeth exhaled sharply. "That explains the control. But it doesn't explain this." She gestured to where his shadow had just moments ago growled at her. "Manifestations like yours aren't just trained. They're born."
Cedric said nothing.
"Your Umbra squad," Elizabeth finally said, leaning against the obsidian testing stone, "they never manifested their elements like you did today, did they?"
Cedric shook his head. "They used darkness as a tool. To hide. To strike. Never... like that." He flexed his fingers, remembering the sentient shadows that had snarled at his command.
Elizabeth nodded. "Most warriors don't. Manifestation isn't necessary for combat—only mastery. Your Umbra comrades honed their weapons and their skills first, their elements second. Practical. Efficient." She tilted her head. "But limiting."
She pushed off the stone, her golden robes whispering against the floor. "Nobles are different. Trained from birth by parents who themselves mastered manifestation, they learn to merge blade and element seamlessly." A flick of her wrist, and a sword of pure light materialized in her grip, its edge humming with contained power. "This is what happens when you stop treating your element as a servant—and start treating it as a partner."
The sword dissolved back into motes of radiance.
Cedric's brows drew together. "Then why don't all warriors pursue it?"
Elizabeth's smile was razor-thin. "Because it's dangerous. Manifestation requires surrendering control, letting the element live through you. Most who try without proper training end up burned, frozen, or worse." Her gaze sharpened. "You're an exception. Your darkness didn't just obey today—it spoke. That's not trained. That's instinct."
Elizabeth leaned in. "And what about your water core?"
Cedric hesitated. "I haven't had it long."
Elizabeth's eyebrows shot up. "And you're already integrating it into combat?" She shook her head. "No wonder you haven't manifested it yet. You're still treating it like a tool, not a part of you."
Cedric frowned. "Then how?"
Elizabeth smirked. "You don't use water, Cedric. You listen to it." She raised her hand, and a sphere of light formed above her palm, pulsing gently. "Elements have voices. Yours just hasn't spoken to you yet."
Cedric stared at the orb, his expression unreadable.
Elizabeth dismissed the light with a flick of her fingers. "For now, focus on mastering water in its purest form. The manifestation will come when it's ready." She turned toward the door, then paused. "And Cedric?"
He looked up.
"Be careful who sees what you really are."
With that, she left.
Dormitory Reflections
Cedric's room was quiet when he returned, the twin moons casting silver beams across the floor. He set his spear and sword against the wall, then sat on the edge of his bed, rolling a small orb of water between his palms.
It shimmered faintly, responding to his touch—but it didn't speak.
Not like the darkness did.
He clenched his fist, and the water splashed onto the floor.
Outside his window, something moved.
A shadow? A trick of the light?
Cedric didn't investigate.
But he slept with his dagger in hand that night.