The training grounds are bathed in the morning light as I take a deep breath, the familiar weight of the macuahuitl resting in my hands. Its polished obsidian edges gleam, razor-sharp, a deadly testament to the skill of the Imperial palace's best smith.
Crafted from the finest materials, it has been designed to mirror the weaponry of my ancestors while adapting to the unique style I've been developing over the past few years.
I call it Léets, meaning "blaze of fire" in our Imperial tongue, a name meant to capture the fierce, unyielding spirit that I wish to embody in this technique.
Léets isn't just a combat style; it's my way of honoring the memories of Earth while forging something new for Viatori.
As I grip the macuahuitl, memories flow through me of scenes of ancient masters, each with their ways of wielding the blade. On Earth, I studied science, yet my heart had always yearned for swordsmanship.
The variety and artistry of those techniques captivated me. I recall the Samurai of Japan, with their fluid, precise cuts and devotion to the katana; the rich, ancient Taoist sword forms of China's dynasties; the hard, unyielding strikes of medieval European swords; and even the weapon arts of the Americas the sharp-edged obsidian weapons of the Maya and Aztec warriors.
"Focus, Your Highness," comes Kuk's voice from behind me, snapping me back to the present.
I give him a slight nod, exhaling slowly.
"Thank you, Kuk. You know me too well."
With a swift, clean motion, I begin my practice routine, each movement intentional, and deliberate. I've taken elements from each of those Earthly styles, adapting them to Graeca's unique demands.
The Viatori Empire has always favored the power of fists in combat supernatural strength that flows through the body itself. But with Léets, I seek to introduce something different.
I believe that, with training, our soldiers could incorporate weapon mastery to amplify their Ch'ulel, the supernatural force we call "the other side of reality."
If I can perfect Léets, it could become a cornerstone of our Imperial army.
As I move, my Visualization power activates, a skill I've kept hidden from everyone save Noíl and Kuk.
Through Visualization, I can observe my movements as if through a lens, analyzing my form, and calculating angles, strengths, and weaknesses. With every slash and step, I gain insights into how I can optimize my strikes and refine my technique.
It's a powerful tool, one that has allowed me to progress far faster than any ordinary warrior. But I keep it concealed this advantage is mine alone.
Just as I bring the Macuahuitl down in a sweeping arc, a soft voice interrupts.
"Still refining Léets, little brother?"
Ix Chel, the First Princess and Imperial Advisor, watches me with a small smile, her piercing eyes betraying the same silver hue that marks all of us in the Balam clan. At 36, she is formidable a Grandmaster in the ice element, edging ever closer to the rank of King.
Her reputation as a wise and cunning strategist is as well-known as her abilities.
"I have a long way to go,"
I reply, lowering my weapon.
"But one day, I hope Léets will be of service to the Empire."
Ix Chel's smile is warm, almost maternal.
"You have always had a clear vision, Yaxkin. Our people will benefit from this path you're forging."
Her expression softens.
"Father will be proud."
I nod, the weight of her words settling on me.
"Thank you, sister. Knowing you and Father are supportive means everything."
She places a gentle hand on my shoulder before stepping back, allowing me to resume my training.
With my focus sharpened, I continued the exercise, incorporating movements inspired by each style I remembered. The samurai's precision, the Taoist fluidity, the raw power of medieval Europe, and the calculated ferocity of the Aztec warriors all are woven into each swing and thrust. I can almost hear weapons clashing from battles long past as if their spirits guide me in perfecting Léets.
After hours of practice, the midday sun climbs high, casting a warm glow over the grounds. I wipe the sweat from my brow, satisfied with the morning's work.
My Visualization power has allowed me to optimize every motion, each muscle memory settling in with an instinctual efficiency. As I sheath the Macuahuitl, Kuk, and Noíl approach.
"How does it feel, my Prince?" Noíl asks, her eyes sharp, assessing.
"Better,"
I reply, nodding.
"The technique is coming together, piece by piece. It may take years, but I believe Léets will be a force to be reckoned with."
Noíl's expression remains thoughtful.
"It's incredible what you've achieved, especially with the knowledge you've kept to yourself." Her loyalty is absolute, and she respects my secrecy. Kuk, standing beside her, gives me a brief, approving nod his way of showing pride.
These two, my closest confidants, are my anchor. They alone know of my past life, of the memories that set me apart. They understand the importance of secrecy, that the more I keep hidden, the safer we all are.
As we gather our things, I reflect on the path that has brought me here. It's been almost four years since I regained my memories, and in those years, I have honed myself, and pushed every limit, knowing that the opening of Ikal is just around the corner.
This world is vastly different from Earth, yet so much remains familiar.
The Viatori Empire, with its strict social structure, has a hierarchy that depends on power one in every ten thousand people awakens supernatural abilities, creating an elite class that dictates the order of society. With Ikal's imminent opening, the balance may shift as people of all classes gain new powers.
It's a concern we all share. The few who possess power often use it to maintain the status quo, yet with Ikal, the world will face an unprecedented opportunity for upheaval. Those born into power could lose their grip, and those without it could rise to challenge them.
But for me, Ikal is something more. It's a chance to bring my vision to life. A chance to test Léets, to establish a martial order within our empire that combines weapon mastery with the Ch'ulel we've relied upon for centuries. If my family's legacy is to endure, if Viatori is to stand as it always has, I must prepare for the changes Ikal will bring.
I look down at my Macuahuitl, its obsidian edge catching the light. This blade, this path, is my way forward a legacy that I can carve out for myself and for those who come after. I think of Father and Ix Chel of the strength they embody, and of the heavy weight of tradition they bear. I am not like them, nor do I aspire to be. But I will do what is needed to protect them and to secure our empire's future.
Fifteen days remain until my nineteenth birthday until the doors to Ikal open. And when that day comes, I will step forward, ready to face whatever this new world holds.