The Prince of Warwood and The Rise of the Chosen

by J. Noel Clinton

  “But, Dad…”

  “Xavier, I said no. That’s the end to this discussion! Maybe in another month or so you’ll be ready for visitors.”

  “This is bullshit!” he retorted, standing and throwing his napkin to the floor.

  “Xavier Wells!” his father’s voice boomed. “Curb the foul language. It’s unbecoming for the heir to the throne.”

  He scowled at his father before turning and stomping out of the hall muttering, “That doesn’t seem to keep you from cussing.”

  The king and his generals watched as the boy stormed away. Henrick nodded to the king and followed.

  “He needs a real test. He needs to realize that even though he’s come a long way, he is still dangerous and has a lot of work to do. I know he’s going to try something stupid,” Jeremiah noted quietly.

  “Do something stupid? Naw. Not your son!” Loren guffawed.

  Jeremiah looked at his general soberly. “He’s thinking about sneaking out of the mountain and returning to Warwood.”

  “What do you have in mind, sire?” Ephraim asked.

  “We need to up the ante,” he answered.

  Chapter 32: Test

  The next morning, Xavier reported to the fencing chamber as usual for his training and found his father and the generals already there, dressed in full combat gear with swords in hand. He froze at the sight of them.

  “Come in, Xavier. Thank you, Henrick. You may secure the chamber,” his father instructed.

  Henrick nodded dutifully, exited the chamber, and locked it behind him.

  “Secure the chamber? He hasn’t done that for weeks. What’s going on, Dad?”

  “A test. You say that you’re in control of your abilities and that you’re ready for visitors. I’m afraid you must prove it to me.”

  Jeremiah despised that it had come to this. He didn’t enjoy the idea of putting his thirteen-year-old son up against fully grown men trained, skilled, and experienced in combat, but he had to get through to the stubborn boy that he wasn’t ready to have visitors. If he didn’t accomplish that, Xavier would find a way to get back to the kingdom on his own, and he simply wasn’t ready to return.

  The destruction Xavier had caused in escaping Warwood had been severe. The school’s foundation had been damaged, large fissures snaked throughout the kingdom, one section of the Coliseum had collapsed, and the palace wall had been compromised. Damage, some minute and some devastating, could be found throughout the kingdom. Since the kingdom was still on high alert and much of the citizens’ time was spent preparing for the inevitable war, repairs had to be prioritized, and therefore they were slow moving. The most severe, dangerous, or needy problems were dealt with first. The palace’s wall had been repaired and the school’s foundation had been re-enforced so that school and training could continue. However, the large cracks in the earth still remained. Temporary bridges had been built where the fissures had cut through roads and high traffic areas.

  In addition to all of this, the power Xavier had exhibited during the attack on the kingdom had many citizens speculating on the prince’s true identity. Rumors had spread like wild fire, and Jeremiah couldn’t walk across the drive or through the Governing Hall without hearing his citizens’ fevered whispers and thoughts. The boy’s friends were suddenly in the spotlight and were being questioned by nosey, meddling citizens. Luckily, the children had agreed not to mention any of this in the numerous letters that weighed his pockets after each visit to the kingdom. They agreed he didn’t need this additional burden. As hard as it was for Xavier to be away from the kingdom, he wasn’t ready to face the consequences of what he had done, what he was, or what he was prophesized of becoming. Yes, this test was essential.

  “W…what do you mean? What kind of test?”

  “Fencing, laddie. Put on your protective gear and pick up your sword,” Ephraim instructed, nodding to the vest, helmet, and sword on the table next to the doorway.

  Xavier looked at the gear and then back to the men. With a shaky breath, he turned, pulled on the gear, and picked up the sword. He swung it experimentally. It had been over four months since he had held a sword, let alone wielded one. He turned uncertainly to the men behind him.

  “You will fence each one of us. Loren and Ephraim have been instructed to hold nothing back. If an injury occurs, we’ll pause long enough to mend the wound before continuing. Understand?”

  “Why are you doing this?” he whined anxiously.

  “Because battles are fought with swords, son. This exercise is just the next level in your training. If you can complete the exercise and maintain complete control and command over yourself and your abilities, then I’ll reconsider your request for visitors.”

  “Really? You’ll let them come for a visit? Could it be an overnight visit?”

  “Don’t push your luck, Xavier. I can only guarantee a day visit.”

  He nodded. As scared as he felt, he had to keep himself in check. He had to beat his father at his own game if he wanted to see Robbie and his friends. With a deep breath, he stepped forward and prepared himself.

  Jeremiah nodded to Loren and the big man stepped forward. Immediately, Xavier’s mind whirled, trying to determine the best fencing strategy for such a large, powerful man. Loren could pulverize him with sheer blunt force.

  As Loren readied himself across from him, his eyes were unwavering and hard. This was not a game! This was serious business.

  “En guarde,” Loren barked and swept his sword in a wide arc, striking Xavier’s blade with a tremendous blow that rattled his teeth. His sword clattered loudly to the stone floor.

  If he had any preconceived notions that Loren would pause to allow him to reclaim his sword, he would have been sorely mistaken. The large man was advancing again. Xavier ducked, rolled underneath the attack, grabbed his sword, and stood. When he turned to face the general again, he barely managed to lift the sword in time to block yet another strike. This time, he succeeded in keeping the sword in his hands, but the contact of blade against blade jolted him and his knees buckled. Fear mounted in him with each strike of Loren’s sword, and he began to feel energy crackling in his fingertips. He wouldn’t last much longer with Loren’s powerful blows. He had to use his empowerments if he were to have any hope of escaping pain and injury.

  When Loren came at him again, Xavier dodged the attack, scurried to the other side of the room, raised his right hand, and launched a powerful electro force straight at the general. But Loren was quicker on his feet than he looked. He spun to the side, the force only grazing his shoulder. Then, Loren returned the favor. The crushing force hit Xavier and knocked him to the unforgiving stone floor. There was an unmistakable snap and excruciating pain exploded up from his elbow. Gritting his teeth against the agony, he staggered to his feet and tried to conjure an electro force to defend himself.

  “Stop the fight,” his father commanded firmly.

  Xavier relaxed, relieved to have a break. Jeremiah approached him and gingerly lifted his right arm to examine it. He cried out in pain.

  “Loren,” he called, waving the general to them. “This needs mending. You’re better with bones than I am.”

  Xavier looked down at his arm and nearly threw up when he saw it twisted at an abnormal angle.

  Jeremiah noticed the boy’s reaction. “Xavier, sit down and breathe slowly through your nose and out through your mouth. Don’t look at your arm.”

  Loren stepped up beside them and nodded. “It’s a compound fracture, but I can have it mended in minutes. No problem,” he responded.

  “Good. Ephraim, administer a small dose of apothecary for the pain.”

  “Yes, sire.”

  With the apothecary, the healing of his arm was painless and within minutes, he was as good as new. Loren helped him to his feet and clapped him on the back before moving to the side of the room.

  Jeremiah turned to Ephraim. “You’re up.” Then he turned and handed Xavier his sword. “Keep your balance and stay calm, so
n,” he instructed, patting his shoulder before moving to stand next to Loren.

  “Okay, lad. Let’s see if you remember anything I’ve taught you. I sure didn’t see any of it while you sparred with Loren,” Ephraim taunted, flipping his fencing mask down and shuffling into position.

  Grimacing, Xavier faced the second general and readied himself. He wasn’t nearly as big or as strong as Loren, but he was a very skilled swordsman. Rumor had it that Ephraim was the best swordsman in the kingdom, and this made Xavier more nervous than he had been when sparring with Loren. The only advantage he had over Ephraim was that he was slightly faster and lighter on his feet. He would have to use his agility to his benefit. This thought gave him a small glimmer of hope and he raised his sword. But, the hope he felt didn’t last.

  He no sooner raised his sword when Ephraim feinted and jammed his sword hard into Xavier’s chest. Stunned, Xavier gasped for air and staggered away from the man. He lowered his sword to his side as he examined his chest. Ephraim’s blade had struck his chest with such force that the sword had managed to gash open his protective vest. If he hadn’t been wearing the vest, the strike would have surely been mortal. This realization sent his adrenaline into overdrive. The general was advancing on him again, and he tried desperately to remember his techniques, any technique that would help him. All thought of technique evaporated from his mind as he watched in near awe at Ephraim’s swordsmanship. He launched a smooth, superbly skilled compound attack. He cut Xavier’s sword to the side, feinted high to his head, and then lunged an attack at his vulnerable torso.

  Xavier managed to twist his body away to avoid a direct hit, but the blow still battered his body. Recoiling in pain, his sword wasn’t in position to stop the next attack. This time, Ephraim came straight at him and attacked. There were no feints and no compound moves. It was a simple, yet potent attack. The blade came crashing down on Xavier’s back and he crumpled to the stone floor. It would have been a perfect kill stroke, but in the last instant, Ephraim twisted his sword and struck Xavier with its blunt side.

  “Do you remember anything I’ve taught you, boy?” Ephraim hissed, disgusted. “You’re sloppy, off balance, and show very little knowledge of swordplay. I’ve seen first year students do better than that!”

  Panting and grimacing, Xavier got to his feet and squared off with the general. “I’m trying, okay? Maybe you’ve forgotten, I haven’t picked up a bloody sword in over four months!”

  “You’re fighting like a drooling tot, and all you can think to do is come up with excuses?” Ephraim spat out, grabbing the boy by the collar.

  Xavier was hurting. His abdomen felt like it was on fire, his freshly healed broken arm ached, his chest throbbed, and his back hurt to stand up straight. Now, he had to stand here and listen to insults? Anger pulsated through his body and he glared up at the general.

  “Get your hands off me!” he growled, knocking the general’s hand away.

  He felt the tingling in his extremities too late to squelch it and a crackling electro force flared up in his hand.

  Ephraim glanced down at it just as it erupted from Xavier’s hand, narrowly missing him. Almost instantaneously, a second force thundered from him and crashed against the wall.

  “Control it, lad,” Ephraim whispered.

  Xavier’s brow furrowed as he stared intently at the force in his hand, trying desperately to will it back, but it only seemed to be growing in magnitude.

  “Xavier, focus on your focal point. Calm down and pull it back,” his father intoned.

  He tried to concentrate, but the force continued to grow more and more powerful. Moaning in frustration, he lost the battle for control, and forces erupted around the room.

  “Xavier!” his father yelled, diving at him and knocking him to the stone floor as a force whizzed above, just missing him.

  Xavier’s body went bone-chilling cold, and the rogue forces around them vanished. His father rolled off of him and sat back on his haunches, eyeing him soberly. Shivering, Xavier closed his eyes in shame. He nearly killed himself with his own empowerments. If his father hadn’t tackled him and extinguished his powers… Without looking at his father, he climbed to his feet and frowned at the sword still clutched tightly in his hand. Without a word, he dropped the weapon with a clatter and stomped toward the door. After a sequence of knocks from Loren, the door opened, and Xavier left the room with Henrick following quietly.

  The king exhaled loudly before whispering regretfully, “Test failed.”

  Chapter 33: Rise of the Chosen

  Although Xavier had failed miserably at his first test, it didn’t deter him during his training sessions in the weeks that followed. If anything, his failure had only strengthened his hunger to conquer his abilities. It was the only way he would be able to see his friends again. The two months that followed were comprised of the hardest, most grueling work of his life. His father would give him what he liked to call “pop quizzes”, which he believed would contribute greatly to Xavier’s development and control of his powers. During these quizzes, the king would call out an ability, and Xavier was expected to summon it, perform with it, and then distinguish it with ease and solid command. At first, he struggled, but with concentration, hard work, and lots of practice, he improved rapidly. Soon his abilities became automatic, and he could easily wield any power he possessed. And, boy, did he possess a lot! He had more powers than Henrick, Ephraim, and Loren combined! He was uncertain about how he compared to the king since his father kept the extent of his abilities to himself. When he asked him how many powers he possessed, his father just smiled slyly and stated, “A king should never divulge the level of his power, son. It could have unwanted consequences.” Xavier didn’t ask him about his powers again.

  The atmosphere at the mountain had altered from a tense, dangerous mood to a calm, relaxed one. Now that Xavier was in complete control of himself and his powers, the guards were more relaxed and joked with him and each other. As a result, he no longer needed constant supervision and had free reign within the mountain. He could explore and go wherever he pleased without Henrick or one of his father’s generals in tow. Xavier spent most of his free time divided between the rugby pitch and the entombed river. Sometimes his father and the men would take time out of their busy schedules to play some rugby with him, but most of the time he was left to entertain himself. The times he was on his own, he would run laps around the field and practice rugby maneuvers bare-footed. The feel of grass under his bare feet made him feel a little less trapped, a little more normal.

  His visits to the river were a secret he kept to himself. Though he never asked, he assumed that the lower levels were still restricted as they had been when they lived in the mountain almost a year ago. Swimming the river was exhilarating, and he often went there whenever he felt lonely or depressed. Even though Xavier was an aqualung and could breathe under water, swimming the river would still send his heart hammering and adrenaline surging into his bloodstream. There was nothing like life-threatening whitewater to put those feelings into perspective.

  The days began to run together. He spent every morning and evening training and the afternoons at the rugby pitch or the river. Before he knew it, his fourteenth birthday was rapidly approaching. One morning, his father strolled into his bedchamber with a large smile and a surprise.

  “How do you feel about having some visitors?”

  He stared dumbfounded up at his father. “What? Are you serious?”

  The king nodded, still grinning.

  “Really? Robbie and the guys can come and visit?”

  “Yes, I think you’ve earned it. I’m so proud of the progress you’ve made, Xavier.”

  “Oh, man! Thanks, Dad. Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he exclaimed, launching himself into his father’s arms.

  Jeremiah chuckled appreciatively, hugging him.

  “When will they be here? Tomorrow? Day after?” he asked excitedly.

  “How about a visitor now?” his father
asked, amused.

  “Now? They’re coming now?”

  “Well, one visitor is on her way right now.”

  “Her?” His eyes widened. “Robbie’s coming?”

  His father nodded. “Yep, she should be here within the hour. I thought you might want some alone time with her without your friends lingering about.”

  “How long can she stay?”

  “I promised her mother she’d be back after dinner. So, you’ve got the entire day to spend with her.”

  “Thanks, Dad. Really, thanks a lot!”

  Xavier paced next to the entrance for nearly a half-an-hour before Robbie’s arrival. When the door finally screeched open, he froze with his heart fluttering wildly in his chest. Then, for the first time in months, he saw her. For a moment, he could only stare, stunned by how beautiful she looked. Her hair was longer. It fell in soft curls onto her shoulders with one lock clipped to the side. Her eyes were the same doe-like brown. And her smile, his heart stopped at her smile.

  “Robbie,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

  “Xavier!” she squealed, running and throwing her arms around him. “Oh, my God!” she cried. “I missed you! I missed you so much!” She pulled away enough to plant a long, breath-taking kiss on his mouth.

  Xavier’s heart soared and he moaned against the sudden shock of sensations pulsating through him. He hugged her closer and kissed her back, feeling as though a great weight had lifted from his soul. When she ended the kiss, the teenagers were startled to find themselves levitated more than thirty feet into the air.

  “Whoa. Oh, my God! How…what…Xavier, what’s going on?” Robbie blurted, anxiety filling her eyes.

  He held the girl tighter and smiled. “What can I say? You swept me off my feet.”

  She laughed nervously. “Well, can you get us down now? It’s making me nervous.”