I’m doing fine other than I miss you so much! Beckley has finally stopped calling me the royal concubine. Actually he’s been really nice to me since you left. Like, the other day when I was really upset and missing you, he sat and listened to me blubber. He’s actually a sweet and sensitive guy when he’s not around the other boys. Anyway, I think of you all the time. I wish I could be there to help you in person. And, I love you too, Xavier.
Love always,
Robbie
Xavier read and re-read the letter half a dozen times. Finally, unable to sit still any longer, he jumped to his feet and began pacing the width of the small chamber. He could feel energy crackling around him, but for the first time since he arrived at the mountain, he didn’t care. A cold, black emotion was swelling inside him, clawing its way to the surface. Overwhelmed and aching for a release from his misery, he turned and punched the stone wall. Pain exploded up his hand, and his bed burst into flames. Anger, not fear, pulsated through his body, and he threw the bed across the room, crashing into the small bookshelf on the opposite wall. Books and magazines ignited and the flames raged into a wild inferno. The stone floor, walls, and ceiling acted as a conductor for the heat, and it wasn’t long until the chamber felt like an oven. The fire continued to grow like a living, breathing beast and spewed out thick, poisonous smoke that filled the small chamber. That was when the fear came. Xavier panicked and launched himself at the locked metal door.
“H…help!” he choked out, banging frantically on the door. “Help! Oh, God, please! Please, open the door. My room is on fire! Help!” he screamed, beating on the door and choking on the suffocating smoke.
Within seconds, the door swung open with a loud screech, and Loren grabbed him and pulled him out into the safety of the hallway. He pinned Xavier against the wall, his arms on either side of his head. Henrick and another guard Xavier didn’t recognize raced into the room while he leaned against the large general coughing and fighting to clear his lungs of the poisonous fumes he’d inhaled. A loud whirling sound and a splash came from his room followed by a crash and scuffling. Finally he regained the ability to breathe without coughing up a lung, and the two men exited his chamber with a nod at Loren.
“Good job, Henrick, Turner. Clear out of the corridor and contact King Wells. I’ll secure the Prince in the alternative chamber.” The general didn’t move until both men were out of sight. In that moment, Xavier realized that Loren had shielded him with his massive body the entire time in order to protect Henrick and Turner from him. “Come on, Xavier. Let’s get you settled in your new room.”
Loren stepped back, but Xavier didn’t budge. His legs were shaky and weak. If he tried to walk now, he would collapse. The terror he had felt moments ago morphed into a dark depression, and he felt dangerously close to tears.
“Come on, kiddo,” Loren encouraged gently wrapping an arm around him and guiding him into a small chamber across the hall. It was identical to his old room. There was a small twin bed, a table with two chairs, a toilet, a sink, and a small bookcase. “Are you okay?” he prodded. “Do you have any burns?”
Xavier shook his head and managed a hoarse croak. “I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Does it hurt to breathe? You inhaled a lot of smoke.”
Again he shook his head.
Loren rubbed his crown affectionately. “All right. I need to help Henrick and Turner with the report and make sure your old room is dealt with.” He paused and shifted his weight anxiously. “Your dad will be here soon.” Then without another awkward word, he left the room, closed the door, and jammed the exterior lock into place.
Slowly Xavier shuffled to the bed and sat down. Pain finally registered in his hand, and he gazed down to find the letter still clutched in his hand. Slowly, he loosened his grip on the paper; his hand was already swelling. With his uninjured hand he tried to smooth out the wrinkles in the letter.
It wasn’t fair! Why did he have to be here? Why couldn’t he see his friends? Why couldn’t he see Robbie? Beck was making moves on her and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it trapped in this freaking mountain. His father was being overly protective and a complete ass about it!
Frustrated and overwhelmed, he hugged his knees against his chest and rocked anxiously. He sighed miserably. He would never see Robbie or any of his friends now. Destroying his room would only confirm his father’s fears that he was still a danger to others. He would be stuck here by himself for months! Xavier let the tears come then. He simply cried, feeling lonely and sorry for himself. He wished he could see Robbie, just once! He would feel better if he could see her, hear her laugh, touch her, but he knew his father would never allow it. So, he cried.
It was nearly a half hour later when the door finally opened and the king marched into the room. Without a word, he grabbed a chair from the table, spun it around to face Xavier, and sat.
Xavier’s eyes dropped to the floor as his father studied him intently.
“What happened, Xavier?” he asked quietly.
He glanced up at his father’s penetrating eyes before looking back down at his bare feet. He shrugged.
“A shrug isn’t an answer. Explain to me how the fire started.”
Xavier sniffed, but he didn’t answer and continued to stare at his toes. He wiggled them nervously.
The king sighed heavily, his patience waning. “Xavier, I want verbal answers, son! No more shrugs. What in the hell hap…” his words dropped away when he saw the pendant dangling around the boy’s neck. He lifted the pendant into his palm and rubbed his thumb over the gleaming tree etched into the surface before letting it drop back into place. He looked at his son’s down-cast head. He shoved his hand through his hair as he began to put the pieces together. “Did you get a letter from Robbie today?”
He nodded meekly and sighed shakily.
“Did something in the letter upset you?”
Again, he nodded.
Jeremiah sighed sympathetically before pulling the boy into a warm hug, stroking his head and back. “Love can be a double-edged sword sometimes, but I know how much Robbie loves you, Xavier. The girl has pestered me on a daily basis with questions about how you’re doing, how your training is going, and when she will be allowed to visit. Anyone can see how much she cares about you.” He withdrew enough to peer into his son’s eyes. “But all of that pales in comparison to her thoughts about you. I can hear her thoughts so clearly, she might as well shout them from the turrets of the castle!”
Xavier’s eyes lit up. “You heard her thoughts? What did you hear? She said in the letter that she’s not mad at me about what happened. Did she mean that? Does she still want to be my girlfriend? What does she think about Beck?”
Jeremiah held up his hands to the boy’s onslaught of questions and chuckled. Upon hearing his last question, he dropped his hands and looked at his son, bewildered. “Why would she be thinking about Beck?”
He shrugged but answered, “I guess he’s been really chummy with her since I left the kingdom. He listens to her and hangs out with her when she’s missing me.”
Jeremiah nodded. “I see. Now this all makes perfect sense. You’re jealous.”
“Well…he’s moving in on her! I know he is! I…I just feel so helpless stuck here and not able to protect what’s mine!” he whined. His steely glare met his father’s. “She’s my girl! He’d better back off!”
“Xavier, Robbie chose you, right?” After the boy nodded his response, his father continued quickly, “Then why are you so insecure about losing her to anyone?”
“I don’t know. I guess because I miss her and because I can’t see her every day.”
“Do you trust Robbie?”
“What?”
“Do you trust her?”
“Yeah…of course, I trust her. I’d trust her with my life.”
“Then why don’t you trust her about this?”
“I…I trust her. I just don’t trust him!”
Jeremiah nodded his unders
tanding. “Son, it takes two to tango. You can’t lose her to Beck unless she chooses him. So, instead of threatening Beck to stay away from Robbie, you should have faith in Robbie.”
His father’s words made sense, but it was hard not to feel animosity toward Beck for making moves on Robbie. After all, Beck was supposed to be his friend. It was disrespectful to their friendship. Not to mention, he was future king. Surely it would be like…treason or something!
The king was obviously reading his thoughts. “Xavier, even if Beck is trying to win Robbie’s favor, how is that any different from what you did here at the mountain last year?”
Ouch! That was a low blow, but his father was right.
“How do I not feel jealous, then? I don’t want to feel like this, but I don’t know how not to,” he mumbled.
“Just let it go. Keep yourself busy with other things, like your training. Write letters to Robbie often so that she misses you less…”
“If you’d let her come for a short visit, we’d miss each other a lot less!” he interrupted.
“No, son. It’s just not the right time. It’s not safe for either of you.”
He sighed weightily before muttering, “I knew you’d say that.”
“Sorry about that, but you know it’s true.”
Xavier groaned as he buried his face in his hands before hissing at the throbbing pain in his right hand.
“Here. Let me have a look at that hand.”
Chapter 31: First Success
Xavier’s training on controlling his emotions during hand-to-hand combat and empowerment spars continued. After several weeks of this, the time had finally come to combine the two. All his previous successes seemed inconsequential as he struggled to conjure and utilize his powers while fighting hand-to-hand. As the day wore on, his ability to control his abilities was quickly diminishing, along with his father’s patience.
“Focus, boy!” Jeremiah growled, perspiration beading on his forehead as he sent a stinging electro force at Xavier.
The force hit Xavier’s left side, tossing him off balance and sending him hard to the floor. They had been at it for hours. His empowerments were hit or miss at best. Some simply refused to present themselves at any level, whereas the others came out with an uncontrollable vengeance.
“I AM FOCUSING!” Xavier blared angrily at his father, unintentionally bombarding the king with baseball-sized hail.
Jeremiah held up a shield to deflect the majority of the frozen missiles his son had unwittingly directed at him. “I can see that,” he responded dryly when a chunk of ice came uncomfortably close to his groin.
Xavier closed his eyes and concentrated on Robbie and soon the smashing of icy debris vanished. He opened his eyes and found his father nodding approvingly.
“Good! Now that you’re focused, try again.”
“Awe, come on, Dad! I’m so tired that I can hardly feel my feet! Can’t I stop now? It’s hard to concentrate.”
“Xavier, the more tired you become, the more important it is for you to be able to effortlessly control yourself and your powers,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Now, fight!”
The king threw the first punch, but he saw the punch coming, ducked, and struck him in the ribs before dancing out of reach. Jeremiah sent a blazing force at him, knocking him backwards. Barely managing to stay on his feet, he answered with his own force, but the king lazily blocked it.
“Good! Again!” his father commanded.
His next attempt at conjuring an electro force proved less successful. The force simply swirled weakly in his palm, impotent. When he attempted again, the force refused to materialize at all and Xavier lost his patience.
“GRRR! This is hopeless!” he blared, throwing his hands into the air.
“Xavier, if you quit, you’ll never learn to break through these dry spells,” his father stated bluntly. “The Prince of Warwood is not a quitter.”
“Then I guess I’m not the Prince of Warwood because I’m not doing this anymore! I’m tired and I’m going to bed!” he spat out, turning and stomping to the door. When the door didn’t unlock and open, he glared up at Loren. “Open the door, Loren. I want to go back to my room.”
The general looked at the king before responding. “Sorry, young sire. Your father’s right.”
“This is stupid!” Xavier blared, angrily. His eyes darted to Ephraim, who stood tensely a few feet away. “Let me out!” he yelled at the second general.
Ephraim slowly shook his head, his eyes never leaving Xavier’s.
“GOD!” he shouted and kicked the door, before pacing angrily. Energy crackled around him and all three men watched the boy warily.
“Stop whining, Xavier. Do you think Fox will care if you’re too tired for battle?” his father challenged.
“This isn’t a war!” he screamed, glaring at his father. “This is training! And I don’t give a damn about Fox!” Sparks erupted from his fingertips as he pointed at the reinforced lead-lined door. “Open the damn door, Dad!”
“No,” his father answered as he stepped toward him. “Do you really think we’re not at war, son? Are you truly that foolish? Of course this is war! We are in a desperate war to win control over your powers!”
“Shut up! Just shut the hell up! I’m tired, and I’m not going to do it!” he shouted, stepping toward the king with his hands clenched at his sides.
“Watch it, Xavier! Don’t talk to me…”
“I SAID SHUT UP!” Xavier shouted.
Suddenly, the king clutched his throat, gasping and wheezing. Unable to catch his breath, he sank to his knees, his eyes wide with fear.
Loren raced to the king’s side and glared angrily at the boy. “Xavier! Stop it! Stop it now!”
He stared down at his father unbelievingly, not quite grasping what was going on.
“Xavier!” Ephraim shouted. “You’re killing your father!”
He snapped his head up toward the second general as if not quite hearing him. He looked back at his father, who was close to passing out.
“Oh, shit!” he mumbled, looking back at Ephraim. “Knock me out! Knock me out!”
“No, you must stop it! Just stop it, Xavier!”
“I don’t know how!”
“Try! He doesn’t have much time!”
“Then knock me out! Please!”
“Not until you make the attempt on your own!”
He looked back at his father helplessly. He frantically looked around as if the solution to stopping what was happening could be found in the room.
“Damn it, Xavier. Search inside yourself for the answer! You can’t stop it by looking around the bloody room! Concentrate on yourself!” Ephraim demanded.
Xavier snapped his eyes closed, fighting the panic mounting inside him. “Oh God, oh God, oh God! How am I going to do this? Okay.” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I’ve gotta calm down. I’ve gotta calm down and imagine Dad breathing.”
He concentrated on his own breathing and calming his thoughts. Soon his father’s gasping breaths were forced to the background until he could no longer hear him. Keeping his eyes clamped tightly shut, he began to visualize his father breathing normally, until he thought he could hear his father breathing steadily right in front of him. His heart leaped with hope and he concentrated more intently on the image in his mind. He was so deeply implanted in his vision that he jumped when a firm hand grasped his shoulder. His eyes snapped open, and he saw his father’s face, a bit flushed but alert and aware.
“Dad!” he croaked, relief flooding his voice as he propelled himself into his father’s arms. “Oh, jeez! I’m so sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to do it. It was an accident.”
“It’s okay, Xavier. I know. I know,” his father soothed hoarsely as he stroked his head. Then, pulling the boy at arm’s length, he whispered eagerly, “But, son, you did it! You overcame your strongest insurgency yet! You controlled it all by yourself without any help from us! You did it, Xavier!”
The relief he felt was so ov
erwhelming that he started to cry. He had controlled a strong rogue power; it hadn’t controlled him. For the first time in months, he started to believe he would beat this thing. Everything would be okay.
Well into the second month at King’s Mountain, Xavier’s abilities had increased rapidly in number. It seemed that each day brought a new empowerment. He acquired so many powers so quickly that the men were in utter awe over the powers he now exhibited. It wasn’t a surprise that Xavier had trouble controlling these pubescent powers, but after extensive training, he quickly developed a fairly firm command over them. The work was hard and exhausting but the success he was experiencing made it worth it.
By the fourth month, training began to wind down in intensity as the volume of new powers had lessened considerably. Control over his abilities had improved so much that it was no longer necessary to lock him in his room during the day, although he wasn’t allowed to go anywhere alone. Xavier was confident that the worst of his control issues were behind him. So, when he asked his father if his friends could come for a visit, he was sure his father would allow it. He was wrong. Without hesitating, the king denied the request. Certain his father was over-reacting, he kept pressing him to reconsider.
“Absolutely not,” the king stated simply, taking an enormous bite from his burger.
“Why not? I don’t have hardly any trouble with my powers anymore! You said yourself that I was doing great. Besides, you or Ephraim could be there just in case,” he pleaded for the third time that week.
“Xavier, I’m not going through this again. It’s still not safe for you to have visitors. I will not put their lives at risk,” his father insisted firmly.
The Prince of Warwood and The Rise of the Chosen Page 25
