Four boys scurried from a side door and darted to a crop of large pine trees separating the school from a skate park on an adjacent lot. A large, burly boy led the group. Xavier would have recognized the boy anywhere. Matt Windom! The very same Matt Windom who had tormented him, bullied him, and made his already-unhappy life at school downright miserable. If only his powers had manifested before then. Matt would have been toast! A small sly smile slid across Xavier’s face.
“Let’s see if you can take me now!” he muttered as he stood. He jogged across the street and toward the row of trees where the boys had disappeared.
“Hey, man. Give me a drag! It’s my cigarette. I swiped it from my old man!”
“Wait your turn, numb nuts!” Matt spat as he inhaled from the lit cigarette.
“Numb nuts? Are you speaking from experience, Matt? I thought yours had been castrated at birth,” Xavier taunted with a smirk.
All four heads whipped in his direction. Matt studied him with narrow, angry eyes.
“What’s the matter, Matty? Don’t you recognize me?”
Matt’s eyes suddenly lit up with recognition and he sneered haughtily. “Why, look at what we have here, boys. Is that you, Q-tip head?” He stood and took a step toward Xavier. “What are you doing here? Last I heard, your daddy showed up and took you away to some special school for losers and freaks.”
Xavier smiled and strolled nonchalantly toward the older boy. “Yeah…I’ve learned lots of stuff at that special school for freaks. Wanna see?”
He didn’t wait for an answer as he launched himself at the bigger boy and knocked him to the muddy ground. Matt scrambled to his feet with murder in his eyes. Xavier jutted out his hand at him, trying to conjure his telekinesis, but nothing happened. Matt paused, staring dumbfounded at his outstretched, impotent hand before he and his friends burst out in uncontrollable laughter.
“Oo! Scary hand,” one boy guffawed, mocking Xavier’s gesture.
“Dude! What was that supposed to do?” another boy blurted, still laughing.
“What a freak!” the third boy spat.
“Oh my God, cotton balls. No wonder your daddy sent you away. You’re completely nuts!” Matt jeered, spraying Xavier with spittle as he did.
Xavier dropped his hand, his face red with humiliation. He stared heatedly into the other boys’ taunting faces. Of all the times for his powers to disappear, it would have to be now! Powers or no powers, he was fed up with being humiliated and teased. He was a king by God! No one would ever put him down again. Ever! Tightening his hands into fists, he punched Matt squarely on the nose, sending him stumbling backwards before falling on his butt. Blood gushed from the bigger boy’s nose, and tears streamed from the corners of his eyes. The other three boys stared down at their fallen friend in shocked silence.
Matt gurgled a string of obscenities before shouting at his buddies, “Get him!”
The group jumped Xavier and wrestled him to the ground. He struggled against them, but it was no use. He was sorely outnumbered, and without his powers, he didn’t stand a chance against four older, bigger boys. Matt climbed to his feet and loomed over him, wiping blood from his face.
“Stand him up,” he spat nasally.
The three goons holding him jerked him to his feet and held his arms. Matt shuffled forward and stood nose-to-nose with him. Fury and hatred filled his eyes and without a word, he sucker-punched him in the stomach. Xavier grunted loudly, doubled over, and gasped to regain his breath.
“You crazy freak! Did you really think you could take me? Did you?” Matt bellowed, this time punching him in the face.
An explosion of white blinded him followed by throbbing, hot pain.
“Hold him still, guys,” Matt barked, glee sticking to his voice.
Xavier looked up just as Matt swung and punched him again, this time in the nose. He would have fallen to his knees if Matt’s cronies weren’t holding him upright. He could feel the bitter-sweet taste of blood as he tried to swallow.
“I think he’s gonna pass out, Matt,” one boy sneered.
“Look! He’s crying like a little girl!” Another laughed.
“He’ll be doing more than that when I’m done with him,” Matt spat out, punching him again.
Xavier could taste bile after the last blow and struggled not to throw up. Fear and anger surged through his body. He knew Matt wouldn’t stop until he couldn’t stand, lost consciousness, or was dead. He prayed desperately for his powers to return. He would repay their brutality in kind. He would cause them unmentionable pain and suffering. He would make them wallow in pain and cry for their mamas! They would rue the day they laid a finger on him.
Suddenly, the three thugs holding Xavier dropped to the ground screaming in agony. Large, painful-looking blisters surfaced over every inch of their bodies. Matt stood transfixed and horrified at the sight before turning to the small, pale-haired boy.
“My turn,” Xavier whispered with a smirk, slowly wiping the blood from his face.
He thrust his hand out at Matt, striking him instantly with an electro force that propelled him several feet backwards. The larger boy landed with an unmistakable snap as his left leg shattered on impact. He screamed. But, Xavier took no pity as he strolled arrogantly toward him and stood over him, another force spinning wildly in his hand.
“Please! Please don’t kill me! Please,” Matt cried.
He lowered his hand, stunned by the boy’s fear and pleas, but the force continued to spin in his palm. He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on pulling the force back, but it had no effect. It continued to swirl, growing more and more out of control. He stumbled backwards, trying to put as much distance between his out of control force and Matt. He couldn’t squelch it. It would erupt in a matter of seconds.
He looked wildly at the other boy. “I can’t…I can’t stop it! Run! You’ve gotta run!”
Matt struggled to his feet, but his deformed leg wouldn’t support his weight and crumpled underneath him. He screamed, tears running freely down his cheeks now. “Please! Please don’t!”
With a blinding white light and a loud crack, the king appeared a few feet away looking angry and dangerous.
“Daddy’s here,” he intoned softly just as Xavier’s force exploded from his hand.
His father jumped into action, and in less than a blink of an eye, the king surrounded Matt with a shielding force. The rogue force struck and bounced harmlessly away. Xavier expelled a sigh of relief and before he could turn to his father to explain, a force slammed him painfully to the muddy earth. He tried to push himself to his feet, but he couldn’t move a single muscle, not even his pinky finger. He was helpless and defenseless. His father strode toward him, squatted, and smiled sadly down at him. Xavier’s heart hammered in his chest and plump tears filled his eyes and dropped heavily to the ground.
“It’s time to stop running, son. Everything’s going to be okay,” his father whispered as he stroked his cheek softly. It was the last memory Xavier had before he drifted off into oblivion.
Chapter 27: Quarantine
When Xavier opened his eyes, he found himself in an unfamiliar chamber. Ignoring the throbbing pain behind his eyes, he sat up and looked around the small, bare enclosure. Aside from the small twin bed he was sitting on, the room was sparsely furnished with nothing more than a small plastic table and chair, a small bookcase with a few magazines and books, a small sink, and a toilet. It was a prison cell. His father had thrown him in prison! Panic gripped him and he struggled to breathe properly. He would face charges for using his empowerments against the people of Warwood. He would be caned! Tears flooded his eyes and plopped onto his cheeks. He deserved it! He could have killed people. Heck, he might have! The lump wedged in his throat grew bigger, making it painful to swallow. Robbie! He had nearly killed Robbie! Her unconscious image still haunted him. Then there was Lana. She was the closest thing he had to a mother and he had attacked her! She probably hated him now. She might even decide she didn�
��t want to be a mother to a boy like him and break up with his dad. His dad would be angry and hurt, and it would be entirely his fault! Yes, his father would cane him. He deserved at least that much.
Slowly he rose from the bed and approached the metal door. He wasn’t surprised to find it locked. Isn’t that what they did to prisoners, after all? Lock them away in a tiny cell and forget about them until it was time to punish them? A restless, sullen energy grew in the pit of Xavier’s stomach and fought to explode. Fighting against the energy, he paced around the small chamber. Where was he? The Governing Hall? A cell in the palace itself? Where was Robbie? Was she all right? What about Lana? He sank onto the bed and released a bitter sigh. He fought back the fear and tears threatening to overtake him as his mind reeled from the strange events that had occurred over the past few months. Why had his empowerments suddenly gone haywire? Was something inside him broken? Maybe deep down the darkness inside him was taking over. Maybe, just maybe, his worst fear was coming true— the prophet had gotten it backwards. Could it be that he was not the Chosen at all but the Dark King destined to destroy the kingdom and bring misery? The latest events seem to confirm this thought. He’d already brought about fear and pain to much of the kingdom. Tears plopped heavily onto his cheeks. What would happen to him now? Only his father could answer that. He needed his father! Panicked and desolate, he lunged toward the metal door.
“Hello? Hello? I want to see my father! Please!”
Silence.
“Hey! Can anyone hear me?”
More silence.
“Open the damn door!” he blared, pounding on the door as his temper heated. “I have rights!” He wasn’t sure what rights a prince had after attacking his own kingdom, but he was certain he should be allowed a phone call, a visitor, a lawyer, something!
Anxiety mounted inside him and he felt the urge to cuss, scream, hit, and kick at the door until someone listened. But before he could implement the idea, there was an echoing click and the door swung open. He staggered backwards and stared into his father’s grave face.
“You’re awake,” the king muttered, entering the room and closing the door behind him.
Filled with apprehension, he whispered weakly, “Where am I? Jail?”
“No, son. We’re at King’s Mountain,” he responded, sinking onto the bed and patting the mattress next to him.
Xavier sat on the bed next to his father as the questions racing inside him rushed out. “Why are we here, Dad? Did the High Council banish me or something? How are Robbie and Lana? Are they okay? What about Loren and Ephraim?”
The king held up his hand against the onslaught of inquiries. “They’re all just fine, son. Robbie has a small bump on her head, but she’ll be okay. Lana has a mild case of hypothermia, nothing serious. And, no, you haven’t been banished. I’ve brought you here for your protection as well as for the protection of our citizens.”
Xavier’s eyes filled with tears. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, Dad. I swear it! I just...I can’t control them anymore. I could have killed Robbie and Lana! I nearly did! I nearly killed them, Dad!” His tears dropped heavily from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks.
“I know you didn’t intentionally mean to harm anyone. It’s all right,” Jeremiah replied, pulling the boy into his arms and rubbing his back soothingly. “It’s not your fault. I blame myself for not recognizing you were in trouble. The prophet warned me this day would come.”
He straightened and looked at his father with disbelief. “What? The prophet told you I would lose control of my powers? Why didn’t you tell me? God! I thought I was going insane...that maybe I wasn’t worthy! I thought…maybe…maybe the prophecy got it wrong. You should have told me, Dad!”
“You’re right. I should have told you, but so much has happened over the past year that I didn’t want to burden you further. I’m sorry, son,” his father told him softly, stroking his cheek with the back of his hand. “However,” he continued, lifting the boy’s chin and forcing him to meet his unwavering eyes, “if you had just told me when all this began, you could have avoided much of this.”
His head dropped. His father was right. He should have gone to him when he first started having problems. He should have listened to Court and Robbie.
“I know. Robbie and Court told me to talk to you, but…” Xavier mumbled.
“But what?”
He glanced briefly up at his father. “I guess…I was afraid.”
“Afraid? Lord! Son, I don’t want you to ever be afraid of telling me anything!” Jeremiah replied quietly.
“I know, but I don’t want to disappoint you. I’d rather you cane me within an inch of my life than for you to be embarrassed of me again,” he answered, bashfully meeting his father’s eyes.
The king shifted uncomfortably beside him. “Xavier, don’t you know that no matter what happens, I’ll always love you? Nothing you do will ever change that.”
Xavier nodded, and Jeremiah pulled him into his arms. He felt the knot of anxiety and guilt he had fought with over the last few weeks melt away. Relief washed over him and soon, he was sobbing like an infant in his father’s arms. When he could cry no more, he dropped into a deep, peaceful sleep in the security and comfort of his father’s arms.
When Xavier woke again, he felt his father’s warmth around him and smiled. He opened his eyes and looked up at the man who still held him.
“Hey,” he whispered awkwardly.
“How are you feeling?” his father asked quietly.
He shrugged. “Tired. My body is kind of achy.”
Jeremiah nodded. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t exhausted, son. You’re experiencing a surge, an increase of new powers at an extremely high rate, which makes it difficult if not nearly impossible for you to control them. The volume of empowerments you’ve been exhibiting would drain anyone. It takes a lot of energy to conjure and control those powers. Therefore, your bedtime until further notice is 9 o’clock.”
Xavier smiled at his feeble attempt at lightening the mood. “Dad?”
He hugged him closer. “Yes?”
“Well, I was just wondering…when did you get the ability to control gravity?” He looked up at his father’s stunned face. “Wasn’t that the power you used to hold me to the ground like a magnet? I never knew you could do that, or that knocking out thing either!”
He laughed. “Your old man impressed you, eh?”
Xavier blushed and smiled. “Maybe a little.”
Snickering, his father explained, “The prophet and I made a presentation to the High Council to obtain the abilities I would need to save you. They didn’t even choose to deliberate on the matter. They voted on the spot that I should be endowed with everything necessary to help you.”
“Why? Why would they give a crap about me after what I did? I mean… maybe the prophet got it wrong. What if I’m not the Chosen? What if I’m really the Dark King,” he blurted out his fears as fresh tears dropped onto his cheeks.
“Xavier,” his father began firmly, sitting up and turning the boy to face him. “Listen to me, son. I have no doubt in my mind that you are the Chosen. There is no way you could possibly be the Dark King. You are far from being dark in any way. You are a good, kind boy. You will be a superb leader for our people, a far greater king than me.”
He quickly wiped the tears from his cheeks and looked up at his father. “No, I won’t. You’re the best king Warwood has ever seen. I can’t possibly be better than you. I just want to be as good as can to make you proud.”
Jeremiah smiled. “Oh, son, I am proud. And, I appreciate your words, but as your father, I want better for you. You wait and see. You will surpass me in every way!”
“Not if I can’t control my powers, I won’t,” he muttered grumpily.
“With some training and some time, you’ll regain control of them, but before we can start working on your powers, you must learn to discipline your emotions. An uncontrolled emotion makes it difficult to control anything
else.”
“Yeah, I figured that out already. It seemed that most the time I lost control of my powers whenever I got mad or upset…or…uh…well, whenever I had any strong feelings,” Xavier answered with a blush.
His father nodded and asked, “Did you only lose control of your powers when you lost control of your emotions?”
“Yeah, pretty much. Well…except… I nearly dropped a boulder on Mr. Sims. I wasn’t upset or anything when that happened. It just…happened.”
“Yes, Loren briefed me about that incident after it occurred,” Jeremiah noted. “At the time, we believed it was a result of your injuries from your encounter with William.”
Xavier paused, thinking through all the times when his powers had failed him. “Well, there was the fire incident at the theater. I wasn’t upset at all then; I just lost control. Oh, and the first day of school when I was really sick? I wasn’t sick. My telepathy was working in hyper-drive. It was like everyone’s thoughts in the kingdom attacked me at once. Man, did that hurt.”
Jeremiah smirked. “I bet it did. So aside from the boulder, fire, and first day of school, there wasn’t any other time when your powers faltered or surged without cause?”
He shook his head.
“What about the food fight at the dinner?”
He could only stare up at his father. “H…how did you know about that?”
“Henrick,” Jeremiah answered simply. “He told me about it after you ran away. He felt the incident was relevant. So, was the food fight unprovoked?”
“Ah, no…not exactly.” Xavier blushed. “I just…I wasn’t mad or scared or anything, but…I was with Robbie, and….she’s just…she’s really beautiful.”
His father smiled and nodded. “I see. You were feeling attracted towards her. Right?”
He nodded, avoiding eye contact. He was grateful he didn’t have to go into detail explaining what he had felt.
“Well, we’ll begin training this evening. You will train twice a day for the next few months…”
The Prince of Warwood and The Rise of the Chosen Page 22
