Essay on Luminescents and Their Status:

Luminescents are an interesting subject to dwell upon. Throughout the world, no matter where one is looking, countless different opinions and perspectives can be garnered from those they affect. To some, they are the Blessed, a select few who have inherited the blessings given by Selene through the Ages. To others, they are god-like beings who have fallen from grace, a relic of an ancient past, a reminder of what has been lost. Neither of these groups can deny this one thing: Luminescents possess power, and the inclination to wield it as they see fit.

Among those who have the ability to control the flow of Lumin, perhaps the most renowned and envied are the Berserkers. Though the name would suggest otherwise, they are not merely warriors who dash through their enemies in a frenzy. The classification of Berserker is one that was created in the early days of Luminescents, when their purpose was definite: to defeat the creatures of Deimos that were encroaching on the land. Due to this, the abilities of the Luminescents, Berserkers included, were primarily focused on battle power. By absorbing Lumin into their bodies, they can enhance certain physical capabilities, such as strength, speed, pain tolerance, and the like. It was only until after the end of this warring era that other possibilities began to emerge, though those listed previously are the most common for Berserkers to learn even today. Due to their natural proclivity for Leadership due to their immense abilities in combat, they are often seen as Generals and Kings among men.

Unlike Berserkers, who seem to be oriented towards combat through the temporary infusion of Lumin into their bodies, Guardians are able to draw upon Lumin to heal others. However, they are the rarest classification of Luminescent, and as such, coupled with their enviable abilities, they are often sequestered away, kept from the battlefields. Despite their abilities to help the common folk, they are often reserved for the upper echelon and live a life of decadence. However, throughout history some have made their mark, both on the battlefield and off.

Artificers have the ability, through the formation of runes on objects, to Shape the World to their Will. Though possessing of far lesser status than other Luminescents due to their creations being usable by the other, more combat-oriented Luminescents, they are seen as extremely important to the development of Noble Houses, as their inventions can easily tip the scales in their House’s favor.

Skulking in the Shadows, the Weavers are among the deadliest and most important Luminescents for individual Kingdoms and Houses. Whereas the other classifications of Luminescents are able to use their power to infuse Lumin into their targets, be it animate or otherwise, Weavers are able to directly manipulate the Lumin in their surroundings.Their abilities to bend the light around themselves to go unnoticed and effects on the minds of their targets makes them natural Spymasters, Assassins, and Informants.

However, despite these great abilities, Luminescents are not infallible and are far from invincible, with natural talent and individual training playing a decisive role in their capabilities.

Sweat ran down his brow in rivulets as he glared fiercely at his opposition. Momentarily losing focus as his eyes began to sting, he wiped his face with the back on his hand hurriedly. In the time it took to perform this action, he had already lost. Mercilessly charging forward on swift feet, the enemy took the opportunity to press the advantage, as Sevrath was currently off balance and ill-prepared for his strike. A resounding crack sounded through the clearing as the wooden sword was poorly blocked, causing Sevrath to lose his grip. Abandoning his sword as a lost cause, he stepped in close, getting inside the guard of his father’s own sword. Shocked by the sudden loss of resistance, Daniel found himself slightly off-balance due to the sword’s swing. Seeing his opportunity, Sevrath kicked off with his booted feet, leaving the ground and performing a sweeping butterfly kick. He felt impressed with himself when he thought about how long he had spent in secret trying to learn how to surprise his father this way. That is, until he found himself laid out flat on the ground, with his whole body stinging from the force of the counterattack.

“How many times have I told you that leaving your feet during a fight is often a fatal mistake? Once you have committed, there is no going back, and you cannot change directions. Any competent warrior would easily take advantage of the opportunity to defeat you,” Daniel said scoldingly, looking down at his son who had been thoroughly trounced. Sevrath could not help but sulk at the thought. He understood that it might not necessarily be the best idea for actual combat, but it was just so cool!

However, he knew he couldn’t say this out loud, since his father would not appreciate the sentiment. Standing up and dusting off his shirt, he once again stepped into a ready stance. Rather than be on the defensive, this time he decided to force Daniel to react, pressing forward. Feinting left, he struck high towards his father’s shoulder, attempting to weaken his opponent’s hold on his weapon. He knew that if he didn’t press forward, he would quickly find himself overwhelmed by the difference in skill.

His ruse was clearly perceived by the more experienced opponent, who deflected it along its length with the flat of his blade before beginning his own counterattack. Pressured by the overbearing skill of his father, he found himself once more on the defensive despite his attempts to prevent it. He could only barely hold on to his sword as he was forced to block, parry, and deflect a slew of attacks. Staggering backwards, he berated himself for not paying attention to his footwork while in a panic.

Setting his feet beneath him, he recovered his balance and prepared for his father’s follow-up attack. Deflecting the sword up with his own weapon, he found himself once again inside the range of his father; however this time he was on the receiving end. His legs were swept out from beneath him and he found himself once again flat on the ground, this time with the tip of his father’s makeshift blade at his throat.

“Kicks have their place, but in actual fights the ones most likely to succeed and aid your fight will be those below the waist like I just did” Daniel instructed.

Sevrath seemed to be deaf to the words coming from his father. He clucked his tongue loudly and looked away, sulking.

“The first kick looked so much cooler.”

“Sevrath! I see you are still getting pounded to the floor by your father!” A too cheerful voice echoed through the clearing. Though the tone and words themselves were mocking, he could not find it in himself to be angered by what was said. Faking indignance, he turned to his head towards the newcomer. Dressed in a beautiful gown which seemed far more appropriate for social functions than for wandering, Katrine still managed to exude an aura of grace while gliding over dirt-strewn pathways in place of gilded ballroom floors.

Despite the incongruity of her appearance and her surroundings, Sevrath paid it no mind.

“I see you have abandoned your post yet again,” he said with a smirk to the absentee noble’s daughter. She often complained of how much she had abhorred the past two years’ constant dealings with nobles wishing to curry favor with her father in order to gain the right to treat her as, in her words, a glorified broodmare. He found it hard to disagree with this viewpoint, seeing as she herself had little say in the matter and likely the only reason she was not already sold off was because, despite her father’s lack of care for her, he was not a stupid man. No, he would milk her for all she was worth before essentially disposing of her. Due to her possessing the powers of a Weaver, her existence turned him from an unimportant Lord of a dying house at the edges of the Empire to someone that many nobles saw the need to curry favor with, if for nothing else than to claim his daughter to ensure future Luminescent children. Though many of the greater houses and even the lesser ones were not lacking in Luminescents, the acquisition of another bloodline of Luminescents was not something to scoff at; at best, it potentially increased their strength and at worst prevented rival houses from gaining more power in the future through any heirs that might be borne from her.

So she was forced to endure seemingly ceaseless interactions with a great many self-important nobles, who would curry favor when in her father’s company so that they may take his holdings through his only daughter, all the while just waiting for the man to die. But pomp and circumstance were never her her favorite pastimes and with the addition of politics to that list, Sevrath seemed to find her escaping the confines of her manor with more and more frequency.

“Like you didn’t miss me,” she teased with a grin, walking the rest of the distance towards him and his father, paying little mind to the train of her dress dragging on the ground.

“My Lady, my heart aches as always in your absence,” he began playfully. “Might you inform us of how you escaped your suitors on this eve?” Sevrath asked mockingly, performing a sweeping - if slightly clumsy- bow to his friend.

She suddenly turned bashful, wringing her hands in front of her stomach and looking downwards. “Well, I merely thought that one so dashing as the Young Lord of Falkren must be a fearsome warrior.” She said with wide eyes. “I am only a weak girl, but it was just so fascinating. He offered to show me some techniques and I nearly swooned. Maybe I was still lightheaded, because when he had me repeat his actions, I accidentally broke his sword arm. I am just so clumsy.” She lamented innocently, seemingly repentant for her ‘mistake’.

A moment of silence reigned before both began to laugh at the expense of her suitor, which was becoming something of a tradition at this point. This kind of event was not a rarity as a number of potential suitors have visited in hopes of taking her as wife, to the extent that it was honestly shocking that they did not come forewarned of the potential consequences of their actions at this point. The only reason the two could think of for why the visiting nobles continued to attempt to treat her as a mere possession with little will and even less intelligence was that those who had previously suffered were not courageous enough to admit what had injured them to begin with, as it would be met with scorn.

The sad truth of the matter was that, despite women Luminescents having power no less than their male counterparts, their upbringing played a great factor in their capabilities in its uses. Due to this, as they were seen as mere breeding stock for future Luminescents by many of the Houses of the Empire, they grew up in this fashion to the extent that even after their powers had manifested, a great number lived up to this belief, languishing in their wealth and opulence to their detriment. Though not all noblewomen were placed under this category, far too many were and seemed to be too content to change matters. This situation lead Katrine’s suitors to be all the more surprised by her seeming lack of decorum.

“So,” she began, interrupting his thoughts, “I see you are once again endeavoring to acquire bruises.” Katrine pointed out, grinning at the boy who was still laid out on the floor despite her entrance.

Sevrath could not help but blush momentarily at her comment as he stood upright and dusted off his backside, which by now looked as if it had been used as a rug. “If you would rather have a new opponent, I could oblige you by offering myself as a sparring partner.”

“Please comport yourself in a manner befitting of your womanly station!” Sevrath teased playfully. “You are hardly dressed to be engaging in such events, and I could not bring myself to fight a woman!” He pretended to look at her in a condescending manner before continuing. “I would gain much worse than these physical bruises when you thrash me.”

Katrine looked up at him with a predatory grin before ceding that she truly should not be fighting or even be wandering while dressed as she was. With a sigh and a cheerful wave, she left Sevrath to his training, heading back to her manor.

“Well, now that she is gone, shall we continue?” His father said with a grin of his own.

Sevrath’s sigh echoed Katrine’s own as he picked up his wooden training sword and prepared himself.

-\o/-

Why must even the most esteemed of men fall short when seen with one’s own eyes? Previously, most of the nobles coming to pay favor to the Lord of Carthal were possessing of a greater status than the Lord himself; however, most of these were still considered country nobles. To those residing in the capital, they would be seen as ill-bred, ill-mannered, and, judging on how they seemed pucker their nose at any mention of their country compatriots and hesitate at any need to come into contact with them, just plain ill.

Despite their tendency to look down on any they considered to not be within their group of peers, Sevrath could not see anything noteworthy among the newest group of suitors. Yes, their clothes were more luxurious, their mannerisms more intentional, and their expressions even more haughty than their predecessors, but, despite their claims otherwise, he could not see anything special about them. Unlike many of the past groups that came to Carthal to ask for the hand of Katrine, supposedly some members of this retinue were even powerful Luminescents. Sevrath could not see it. Honestly he found it all intensely disappointing. In the past, he was briefly amazed by Katrine’s demonstration of her newfound powers, but that had quickly faded. He had assumed that the reason for this was that he was familiar with her; no matter how hard he tried to see a powerful entity, all he saw was his best friend.

However, he found he was even less impressed with these new Luminescents who were visiting, despite the lack of familiarity. Everyone grew up hearing the stories, the legends of great heroes who changed the course of wars, saved lives wherever they went, and protected mankind. This, on the other hand, was just… disappointing. Proceeding before him on the path to the Lord’s manor, all he could see were men. Men who found themselves, through mere fortune of birth, to be better than those around them and saw themselves as deserving and all others inferior. He could see it in the way they looked down their noses at the curious masses gathered in the town square, in the way they looked at those around them, but did not truly see them.

Sadly, he seemed to be alone in this opinion. Around him he could see the yearning eyes of his townspeople; the adoration and praise lingering on the tips of their tongues, fearful and in awe of these beings they saw as greater. Sevrath could not help but feel appalled at their blindness, and disgusted at the Luminescents who failed to live up to their people’s faith; a faith that their ancestors had fostered in the people.

Maybe he was naive. Maybe not. Maybe this was the way the world was, and had always been. Maybe true heroes did not exist beyond the songs of bards and the tales of times long past. Maybe.

-\o/-

Slipping through the shrouded woodlands, Sevrath stalked his prey. His prey was intelligent, and it showed. Tracks were obscured with its passing, leaving very little evidence of its existence. However he had long lived and breathed these woods; every leaf, every branch, every tree, and every root were familiar to him. He could see the subtle signs of something different, something alien to the forest. A scuff mark alongside the edge of a protruding root which he had often found himself stumbling upon as a child. Small snaps among the brambles of the foliage, where thorns found themselves adhering to passersby. The tentative presence of wildlife found in the wake of something unknown, of a potential predator. Oh yes, despite their attempts to fool him, taking a circuitous route, doubling back, obscuring their trail, he knew well where his prey was. He could feel it.

Creeping through the woods, he avoided the fallen leaves which could give away his position and stepped silently amongst the dew covered grass. Spotting where his prey had doubled back on itself in an attempt to mislead him, he turned left and followed the small game trail in an attempt to push past his prey and ambush. Setting himself down among the foliage he waited carefully, ears perked for any sign of movement. Soon his patience was rewarded as the ambient sounds momentarily halted, heralding an intruder in the area. Grinning to himself, Sevrath prepared his weapon. With the snap of a nearby twig announcing its nearness, he leaped to his feet, leaving the cover of the bushes he had waited in.

He found intense satisfaction in his ambush. Startled by his sudden leap into view, his prey jumped backwards in fright, eyes dilating in response to his sudden appearance. He brought his weapon to bear, stabbing forward in a quick thrust at his prey, attempting to hamstring it. However, he was to slow, as his prey, despite the shock of his sudden appearance, had already prepared herself. Sidestepping his sudden attack, she slashed her own blade in an upward arc, forcing Sevrath to race to bring his own blade to bear, expecting the usual numbing pain accompanied by a forceful block - it did not come.

Instead, he felt only a light brush upon the length of his weapon, far from the force he had expected from her quick counter. As the lack of force registered in Sevrath’s mind, she had already continued her attack, sliding her blade along his own’s length and following with a rotation of her own body in order to use his own blade as a fulcrum, increasing the power of her attack.

With little option, he found himself on the defensive, backpedalling in the wake of her blade. She had definitely improved with the sword. However, she was not the only one who had improved. Predicting her attack, Sevrath, redirected a counterattack of his own with a flick of his wrist, changing the direction of his blade mid-swing. The sound of wood impacting echoed across the clearing, dulled only by the cloth of her garments. Grinning at having gained the first strike, Sevrath continued his offensive, leaving little room for his opponent to attack him. Sadly, he was not infallible, and he soon found himself becoming winded. As his blows began to lose the force behind them, she found opportunity of her own.

Countering with a parry, she stepped forward to deliver a punch with her offhand to his undefended chest. Seeing no escape, he twisted his body lightly, allowing it to merely brush by his chest, dealing a glancing blow, before following with his sword, sliding the blade up towards her underarm to cripple her for the remainder of the fight.

Caught off guard, she stood unbalanced from her punch which had lacked the impact expected. Smiling triumphantly as lashed his blade out towards her unguarded armpit, he already relished the taste of his upcoming victory. His sword close in on her - and passing right through. He only had a moment to register this before he felt a pain across his abdomen and the figure vanished from his view, only to appear to the left of where he had thought it was.

Grinning happily as Sevrath fell to the ground wheezing, Katrine took no time to rub in her victory as she paraded around him in glee.

“You cheated!” Sevrath accused as he rubbed his aching stomach, wincing at the pain it accompanied. Katrine seemed to pay no mind to his accusations as she continued to dance around him. “You used your powers to create an illusion.” He continued to sulk at the loss to his friend.

Katrine stopped in front of him, pouting. “It hardly seems fair that you would get to have the advantage of your knowledge of woodcraft, allowing you to ambush me so easily, while I can’t make use of my own skills.” Sevrath paused at this, as he had indeed made use of his abilities to traverse the forest silently and track to gain an advantage of his own in their game. Despite wanting to continue to complain bitterly about her use of her powers as a Luminescent, he decided to hold his tongue this time.

If nothing else, at least Katrine seemed happier now than she had in weeks. That was good enough for him. Now he just needed to convince himself of it.

He forced himself to smile. “I had hopes that I would win our fight this time when you mentioned the rules of our game. Since when have you been able to do that?” He asked, referring to her previous illusion. Katrine grinned broadly, giving him a coy look before flouncing off, leaving his question unanswered. He could only shake his head and follow. Because of this, he could not see that her smile wavered, showing a touch of sadness as she lead the way.

-\o/-

Ordinarily, Sevrath and Katrine would have said their goodbyes upon reaching the edge of the forest, seeing as their respective homes were on opposite sides of the town, both in location and wealth. However, recently, likely due to the knowledge that their friendship would in the future begin to drift apart due to her forced interactions with those of her class, they did not go their separate ways. Instead, Sevrath and Katrine continued to joke and talk along the way to her family’s manor.

Reaching the gate of the manor, Sevrath decided to take his leave, as despite how much Katrine herself welcomed his presence, others did not feel the same. As he turned to leave, the sound of a galloping horse could be heard heading in their direction. Glaring into the sun, he could see a fine horse and a well groomed rider perched atop. Clearly this rider was another one of Katrine’s attempted suitors, as he was of a similar age based on his features, and possessed a bearing of arrogance that was hard to find outside of noble circles. Sliding to a stop in front of the two, the boy let out a dashing smile as he dismounted his horse, and gave greetings to Katrine.

“Milady, your beauty echoes that of Selene herself.” The boy said with a smile, paying little mind to her company.

“Boy, take my horse to the stables” He said passing by without even turning.

Sevrath stood there dumbfounded for a moment as the reins were thrown at him, attempting to understand the situation. Dropping the reins, he glared angrily at the boy before speaking his mind. “I do not know who you are, nor do I care. I have no reason to do as you say.” he said with a sneer. “And I am not your servant.” he finished, voice dripping with condescension.

Turning in shock at the idea that a mere peasant would speak back to him, an illustrious noble, the boy’s arrogant demeanor was momentarily replaced with surprise before it once again regained its supercilious countenance.

“I see you have not yet had the pleasure of gazing upon a noble such as myself. I should not be shocked, as you were likely busy rolling with pigs and eating their slop prior to my arrival.” The boy began, looking disgustedly at Sevrath, who was currently covered in dirt from his recent foray into the forest with Katrine. “My name is Daryn Elunel, of the Great House Elunel. Most recently; fiancé to the beauty of Carthal.” He finished, leering possessively at Katrine with a hunger in his eyes.