Partners in Crime

Yorknew City Hospital

- - - SHELFORD CITY // 18 YEARS AGO - - -

His father's piercing gaze bores into a 7-year-old Xavia, an imposing figure silhouetted against the sinking sun. His voice is like a whip, sharp and stinging as he admonishes his young son, "Your footwork is sloppy, Xavia! You'll never get anywhere if you can't master the basics!"

The sword in Xavia's hands feels heavier than ever before, his heart hammering inside his chest like a war drum. But there's no backing down now. He grits his teeth and tightens his grip on the hilt of the blade.

His father's eyes, cold and unfeeling, harden as he stares down at the child, "Again!" He barks, raising his own blade.

Xavia, drenched in sweat and dirt from hours of relentless training, forces himself back onto his feet. His breath comes out raggedly as he holds up the sword once more. His small arms tremble with the strain but he steadies himself the best he can before lunging forward again.

The blow is parried easily by the older man, who sighs in frustration, "You're a disappointment," He spits out venomously.

A surge of hot anger rushes through young Xavia's veins, igniting a fierce determination in his dark brown eyes. His grip on the sword tightens to the point where his knuckles turn white under the pressure.

With an enraged cry that echoes around the empty field, he charges at the man again. Every ounce of hatred for this man who's supposed to be his father fuels him, pushing him past his physical limits.

His attacks are fast and reckless, untrained but driven by pure desperation to prove himself. Yet, each strike is easily deflected by the man, whose expression remains cruelly impassive throughout their spar.

With a swift, almost casual movement, his father parries Xavia's wild attack. His foot shoots out suddenly, hitting the boy in the shins and sending him tumbling to the ground. Pain shoots through him but it pales in comparison to the burning humiliation of his father looking down at him and scoffing.

The stern man towers over him, his expression filled with an insurmountable wall of disappointment and disdain, "Sloppy," He sneers down at his son whose chest heaves from exertion, "Your attacks are as pathetic as your stance."

"We're done for the day," The man announces coldly without sparing another glance at the child sprawled out on the ground. He sheathes his sword and turns to walk away.

"No!" Xavia shouts after him, forcing himself to sit up through the pain and exhaustion, "I'm not done yet!" His voice comes out hoarse, but resolute, "I'll get better..." He promises, his gaze locked onto the man's retreating figure. 

But instead of turning around and acknowledging his son's efforts, he simply raises a hand in dismissal without looking back, "I said we're done for today," He repeats rigidly, leaving no room for arguments. His towering figure grows smaller as he walks away, leaving Xavia alone under the dying sun.

The boy remains on the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them in a protective manner. His heart pounds against his ribs agonizingly, echoing the deep-rooted feeling of rejection he feels.

He glances over at his shabby house in the distance, where his mother is most likely preparing dinner with whatever scraps they can afford. Despite everything, she never complains, always greeting him with a warm smile, even when her health is often compromised.

A burning resolve wells within Xavia, not for himself but for her, the woman who deserves more than this bleak existence. He has to make Baron stay... Even if that means becoming someone worthy in those cold brown eyes.