The Prince of Warwood and The Rise of the Chosen

by J. Noel Clinton

  Chapter 25: The Fall-out

  Xavier wandered through the wooded area adjacent to his grandparents’ house. He wasn’t sure why he had teleported here. He had nothing but bad memories of his grandparents, their house, the woods, this town… Nonetheless, he made his way through the woods to the rear of his grandparents’ home. The lights in the kitchen were on and his grandmother was standing at the window washing dinner dishes. She didn’t look so formidable and cruel from a distance. She looked like a frail, old woman. The grimace she always wore in his presence was replaced with contentment, her brow line was smooth, and her mouth soft and relaxed.

  Her shrill, angry voice was still clear in his memory, though. His grandmother had never thought much of him. She had always believed he was a wicked, dangerous boy who should be locked up! Xavier sighed heavily. Maybe she had been right all along. He was dangerous. In one day, he had attacked a boy from school, his father’s girlfriend and quite possibly the future queen of Warwood, his girlfriend, three high-ranking guardsmen, and his own father. What kind of son does that? What kind of prince attacks his own people? How could he be the Chosen? How could he be the King of the Light destined to free humanity from the tyranny of the Dark King when he created chaos and misery wherever he went? Maybe the prophet got it backwards. Was it possible that he wasn’t the Chosen at all but the Dark King? His recent actions only seemed to confirm this.

  Blinded by tears flooding his eyes, he sank to the muddy ground and sobbed, but feeling sorry for himself didn’t change anything. His powers were still uncontrollable, and he was still a fugitive from his home for attacking his people. Wiping the tears from his face, he looked back at his grandparents’ house. His grandmother had finished the dishes and turned out the light to the kitchen. Standing, he dusted himself off and darted across his grandparents’ backyard to the barn. The barn was empty and bare. His mother’s stallion, Brewster, was now stabled at the palace, but he found a spare barrel of hay and spread out a thick layer to sleep on. Even with a turbulent-filled mind from the events of the day, he slipped quickly into a welcomed peaceful sleep.

  When Jeremiah opened his eyes again, it was to anarchy. A group of guards carried him through the palace gates, what was left of the palace gates. The tremor Xavier had created in his terror had rocked the earth and split the palace wall’s foundation. Giant fractures in the earth split the drive into two, and many of the Grand Hall’s windows had shattered. People filled the streets, some crying, some simply dazed and shocked.

  “Release me,” Jeremiah muttered hoarsely.

  “Sire! Thank God! We had feared the worse!” A young guard sighed as he and the rest of the guard set the king to his feet.

  “I’m fine, Sergeant. Where’s my son?”

  “He teleported after he attacked you, sir. We tried to apprehend him, but he…he…well,” the young man gestured at the destruction around them, “he did this. Private O’Neal and Private Duncan are in the infirmary in serious condition as a result.”

  The king nodded grievously. “And what’s the status of General Hardcastle, General Jefferson, and Lieutenant Davies?”

  “I don’t know, Sire.”

  “I need trackers, the best in the kingdom. Find them and send them to the castle within the hour.”

  “Yes, sire,” the young sergeant responded, bowing slightly before rushing off toward the Governing Hall.

  Jeremiah looked at the remaining guards. “The rest of you, clear the streets and get these people back in their homes. Assure them that the danger has passed.”

  “Yes, sir,” the men responded in unison and dispersed into the crowd.

  Jeremiah watched the men begin to usher people away from the fissure and coax them back into their homes. Satisfied the task was in good hands, the king turned and headed to the infirmary to check on his most trusted friends.

  The infirmary was a fury of action. There were several people sitting in the waiting area with cuts, abrasions, sprains, and broken bones. The king walked past the receptionist in the triage, through the double doors, and into the treatment area. Ephraim’s gruff voice flooded him with relief.

  “Oh, bloody hell, I’m fine, Rebecca! Stop fussing over me and let’s get out of here!”

  Jeremiah rounded a corner and entered a small treatment room. Ephraim was sitting on the edge of the bed, wincing as he tried to pull on his boots.

  “Ephraim, you were thrown more than twenty meters! You have a concussion and a cracked rib. You are not fine!” Rebecca spat, standing in front of him with her hands placed firmly on her hips. She was a force to be reckoned with, and Jeremiah knew in a knock-out, drag-out fight, who he would bet on.

  “I’d listen to her. I think she has the gumption and audacity to take you,” Jeremiah called, leaning against the door.

  Ephraim and Rebecca both looked up at the king, and Ephraim snickered. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know, mate. The woman bore and raises four Hardcastle boys. You don’t have to tell me that I don’t stand a chance,” he retorted with a wink.

  “I sometimes think I’m raising five boys, Ephraim Andrew Hardcastle! Now lay back down in that bed this instant before I break another rib!”

  Ephraim muttered to himself, disgruntled, but did as his wife asked. Jeremiah smirked.

  “How’s the boy?” Ephraim asked.

  “Gone. He teleported out of the kingdom. I’m meeting trackers at the palace within the hour. I’ll find him. With the state his powers are in, there’s no way he’ll be able to keep them under wraps. As soon as he engages his powers, the trackers will determine his location.”

  Ephraim nodded. “I should be healed by the time you’re ready to go after him.”

  “No,” Jeremiah stated firmly. “I’m going alone.”

  “What?” Ephraim shifted on the bed. “Jer, you mustn’t do this on your own! He’s very powerful, out of control, and dangerous! You need backup!”

  “Bloody hell, Ephraim. If you get any louder and you’d wake the mortuary!” Loren ribbed, edging into the room with Henrick behind him. Both men had a few cuts and bruises but otherwise looked fine.

  “He’s going after Xavier, alone!” Ephraim spat.

  The two men turned to their king.

  “Alone?” Loren asked in disbelief.

  “Yes, alone,” Jeremiah repeated. “I should have the powers necessary to immobilize and subdue the boy by morning.”

  “Jer, you should still have backup. You saw what he can do! He’s dangerous!” Loren exclaimed.

  “He’s right, sire,” Henrick agreed. “You need us. We’ll stay out of sight; the boy will never know we’re there. Don’t try to capture him on your own.”

  “Henrick, the boy is telepathic! It won’t matter if you’re out of sight. I can’t risk it! I’m the only one who can stop him.” Jeremiah sighed and met each man’s eyes with unwavering resolution. “There’s no other way.”

  The men exchanged weary glances, but not one disputed the matter further.

  “However, I still need your help with something. The upper level of King’s Mountain is the only place built to withstand his powers. It needs to be prepared for his long term care.”

  Loren nodded. “Consider it done.”

  “Good. Rest up, men. Once I have the boy, the real work begins.”

  The king left the men and wandered up to the second level where Lana was being kept under observation. She was asleep when he entered her room, and he sat next to her on the bed and stroked her hair from her face. She stirred and opened her eyes.

  “Hi,” she murmured weakly.

  “Hey, baby. How are you feeling?”

  “Tired, but better. How’s Xavier?”

  Jeremiah hesitated and his eyes dropped from hers. “Not well. His powers are at a massive convergence. He has very little control over his abilities.”

  “Oh, God. It all makes sense now! He must be so afraid.” Lana studied his downcast head. “What is it, Jeremy? What aren’t you tellin
g me?”

  He looked at her again, anxiety creasing his brow. “He attacked Ephraim, Loren, and Henrick tonight. Then he attacked me and the entire Royal Guard. Now he’s missing. He teleported out of the kingdom after the attacks.”

  “Oh, Jeremy,” she gasped, taking his hand and squeezing it.

  “I know,” he whispered. “I have to go after him. I’m meeting with trackers who will help me locate him, and when I do, I will be taking him to King’s Mountain. He’s not safe to have here. I’m afraid all my spare time will be spent helping him get through this.”

  “Of course. I wouldn’t expect any different. Xavier comes first. He needs his dad right now. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

  Jeremiah looked down at the woman he loved and felt so very lucky to have her in his life. Julia had been his first love, and their love had been a whirlwind. It had nearly killed him to lose her. He would have wallowed into an abyss of self-pity and depression, never to recover, save for the fact that he had a young son who desperately needed him. Lana felt like a second chance at happiness and fulfillment. She made him feel like a complete man, a complete father, a complete king.

  “I love you,” he murmured, kissing her. “I’ll keep in touch and let you know what’s going on.”

  “Good. I’d have to kick your butt if you didn’t,” she joked with a sly smile.

  When Jeremiah entered the royal residence, the prophet was waiting for him.

  “Okay. I’m expecting trackers in thirty minutes, and I’ve arranged for the High Council to report to the palace in an hour and a half. What powers do I need to get my son back?” he asked, striding to where the older man sat in the receiving room next to the fire.

  The older man looked at the king’s determined face before answering. “You’ll need abilities that will help you contain and control the boy as well as protect yourself and others.”

  “Which ones, Abe?” he asked impatiently.

  “You’ll need an upgrade to your blocking abilities, tracking, negation, and apothecary.”

  “Telekinesis? Why would I need that?”

  “Since both negation and apothecary require physical contact, you’ll need a power that can restrain the boy when necessary until he either calms down or you’re able to touch him to apply a subduing power. Ephraim will be of use in this since he already possesses the ability of apothecary.”

  “Okay, anything else?”

  “No. Those abilities added to those you already possess should be sufficient.”

  “Will you stay long enough to assist in my proposal to the Council? There will be less reluctance if you back me up.”

  “Yes, I will stay and see to it that the High Council agrees.”

  It was nearly 2’ o’clock in the morning when the last of the High Council finally arrived at the palace. Jeremiah wasted no time with filling the Council in on the circumstances behind Xavier’s attack on the kingdom.

  “So, his powers are at a tremendous influx and he’s unable to control them?” Governor Wilks clarified.

  “Yes. He’s been displaying symptoms of this for months, but the boy was too ashamed and afraid to tell me what was going on. I wish I had paid better attention to the signs that it was happening. I bear the bulk of the responsibility of what has happened as a result of his influx. But now that I’m fully aware of what I’m dealing with, I need the proper abilities to capture and control him. Once I succeed, I will take the prince to King’s Mountain until his influx has passed.” The king paused and glanced at the prophet.

  On cue, Abe stepped forward and continued, “King Wells will need an upgrade in his blocking power, negation, apothecary, gravitational manipulation or telekinesis, and tracking abilities. Is it necessary for me to explain how each power will be used?”

  “No, no. That’s not necessary, Abraham,” Governor Bracus answered.

  “Wait a minute, I’d like to hear it,” Marcus stated. “This is a big decision, and we need to be thoroughly informed.”

  “I completely understand,” Abe replied nodding, “and since time is a luxury we cannot afford to waste, I will make this short and to the point. Although King Wells has kingdom trackers working on locating the prince, they will only be able to tell him a general location of the boy from this distance. The king will need tracking abilities to narrow the search when he’s on the move. He will need gravitational manipulation and telekinesis so that he has a means in which to immobilize the boy so he can get close enough to touch him and employ either negation or apothecary. And, obviously, negation will be used to temporarily remove the boy’s powers and apothecary will be used to sedate the boy when necessary.”

  The group stood in silence as they mulled over the information. Then, the prophet turned to Jeremiah and upped the ante.

  “Sire? I think we need to tell the council of the boy’s destiny. If they knew how important he is to the future of mankind, we may be able to forgo the customary deliberation.”

  Jeremiah hesitated and looked from the group to the prophet and back again. He cleared his throat nervously. “All right. What I am about to tell you must never leave this room. It’s far too soon for Xavier to confront the responsibilities and attention this news will undoubtedly bring.” Jeremiah took a deep breath. He had always known this day would come, but the instinct to protect his son at all costs was hard to overcome. “Xavier is the Chosen, the King of the Light, and responsible for defeating the Dark King, Fox LeMasters.”

  There was a collective gasp from the group.

  “But he’s just a boy,” Governor Wilks whispered. “Does he know who he is, King Wells?”

  “Yes, he does. It’s been hard for him to come to grips with it.”

  “Dear God! It’s just been one thing after another for him; hasn’t it, King Wells?” Governor Bracus hissed.

  Jeremiah could only nod as the lump in his throat painfully restricted his ability to speak in that moment.

  “In light of this news, I think we can vote on the king’s request now. All in favor of authorizing the use of the King’s Key to endow King Wells IV with the said powers say aye,” Judge Stull announced.

  “Aye,” all four Council members announced in unison.

  “Motion passed,” Governor Bracus announced. “The Keeper of the Key must be called upon. Let’s get this done tonight so that King Wells can get our prince back safe and sound."

  Chapter 26: Capturing the Prince

  “What in God’s name are you doing here, boy?” Grandfather’s gruff voice woke Xavier with a start, and he jumped to his feet.

  “Ah…I …ah…,” he stammered, not knowing what to say.

  “Does your father know you’re here?” he asked shortly.

  He stared silently at his grandfather.

  The old man sighed and shook his head. “All right, let’s go. We’re calling your father!”

  “No!” he yelled as sparks erupted from his fingertips, igniting the hay at his feet. He jumped away from the fire as it quickly began to spread.

  “Lord Almighty, boy!” Grandfather yelled, racing to get an old wool blanket and began beating at the flames.

  Xavier ran from the barn and darted into the woods, putting as much distance as he could from his grandparents’ house. He didn’t stop until he found himself downtown in a small shopping square where vendors had set up to sell their delicious treats and snacks. His stomach gave a tremendous growl at the smells there. It had to be close to noon. Ruled by his hunger, he set to work to find some food. He didn’t have any money, but if push came to shove, he would use his invisibility to steal a hotdog or something.

  One vendor attracted his attention. A small crowd had gathered around the small trailer. A few people stood in line to the right of a large open window where a young woman took orders and passed it along to a pot-bellied, gruff man. He busily assembled the orders and set them out on a small metal shelf running the length of the window as he shouted out an order number into the group. Slowly, Xavier crept into the c
rowd and worked his way toward the window. Once in position, he looked around him for a quick escape route. There were half a dozen intersecting streets and small alleys that broke up the buildings surrounding the small square. The closest was a small alley more than 200 yards from the vendor. He would have to run his butt off to get away.

  He looked back at the vendor as the man dropped another order onto the metal tray.

  “Order 23!” he bellowed.

  A woman sitting at a picnic table stood and ambled toward the window, but she was preoccupied with her cell phone.

  Xavier turned back to the window to find the vendor busy preparing the next order. It was now or go hungry. With a quick glance around, he hurried to the window, snatched the food from the shelf, and ran. He raced around the building and sprinted down the alley. Trying to put more distance between him and the scene of the crime, he turned at the end of the alley and ran down the intersecting street before turning again and racing down yet another street. Panting, he slowed and ventured a look behind him. No one was chasing him. He stopped and doubled over, gasping to catch his breath. Then, he straightened and looked around the familiar town. His old school was just down the block across from the park. It was a good place to rest, eat, and figure out what he was going to do next. He quickly walked the distance to the park, his mouth watering at the thought of devouring the food taunting him with its delicious smells. He collapsed on the nearest bench and took a large bite out of the spicy chicken sandwich in the Styrofoam box. He inhaled the sandwich before attacking the accompanying fries. He moaned and closed his eyes with satisfaction.

  Across the street, a shrill bell blared. He looked up at the school. It must be lunch time. He didn’t miss the school at all. It was just another place in this stupid town that held nothing but bad memories. Sighing, Xavier slouched comfortably on the bench, feeling full and sleepy. His lids drooped heavily, but he forced them open as movement from the school jerked him to attention.