Chapter 2: 'You rump-fed, rough hewn shrew!'

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"Mitchell, Hadrian!  Come to the dining room, NOW!" Mitch was startled from his stupor to the sound of his father calling his name.  He quickly jumps out of his bed, slipping on some decent enough clothes and running full pelt towards the dining room.

He receives many greetings of, 'Good morning!' And, 'How are you today, young prince?', from servants, which he prominently ignores.

Hadrian was Mitch's older brother, with Mitch being nine and Hadrian being thirteen.  Mitch didn't like his brother much, he reminded him too much of his father, who, despite Mitch's abilities, was against elementals.  He remembered the day he had told his dad he could control fire and heat, his father had turned to him and told him that they would find a cure, but that he should never use his abilities, ever.

He still did though, when no-one was looking, he would light a piece of fabric on fire or would pretend to be a dragon and blow flames from his mouth.  He, like other elementals he had read about, was unable to be damaged by the element he possessed and took pride in sticking his fingers in fires whenever he could.  Especially when his father could see, just to spite him, or even scare him a little.  

He jogs into the large dining room, with extravagant walls reaching to the sky and a large stone table running down the centre of it.

"Boys!" His father announced, "I have a gift for you.  During the recent hunting day, our knights came across a young beastman, which I'm sure you, Mitchell, have read about.  I want you to feed him, exercise him and most of all train him.  Any questions?"

Hadrian looked extremely excited whereas Mitch's face fell, he had read about beastmen.

"But, father, beastmen are predominantly human.  They don't deserve to be treated like animals."  As if on queue, two servants drag in a young boy, not much younger than Mitch, by two ropes tied tightly around his neck.  He is scruffy and has nothing but a piece of cloth covering his modesty.  He growls loudly as he sees the king and the two boys.

He shouts out, "I am not of your kingdom!  I am not an animal, you have no right to keep me here!"

"SILENCE!" His father shouts and the boy growls again, this time a low rumble emanating from his chest as he curls his lips back to reveal big, sharp teeth.  Mitch takes a step back, wondering whether this boy was more animal than human.

But then the boys head drops and small whispers of cries reverberate through the large room.

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His father had told them to take the boy to the stables to start his training.  Now, Hadrian was repeatedly hitting it with a stick every time it growled, which, coincidentally, was every time he hit it with a stick.

"That's not going to work, Hadrian."

"Do you think you can do better, maggot?" Mitch looks from where he is sat on the hay to his brother and stands up, walking over to the young boy.  He shoves his hand out towards it's face.

"I'm Mitch, what's your name?"

"No, Mitch!" Before he can turn to see why his brother is shouting, a sharp pain causes him to jolt his hand back.

He screams in pain as blood drips from his hand.

"You disgusting animal!" He screams, his eyes turning fire red, "You rump-fed, rough hewn shrew!"

He shakes his head, a few tears dripping from his eyes and a trail of flames twisting with his head.  Before he can process anything, his foot jerks forward, kicking the beast in the face with a sickening crunch and a loud cry.

Turning, he runs.  He runs towards the village, past the village into the woods.  Not giving a damn about the guards.

He runs and runs and runs, until he can run no more and he flops to the ground between two trees at a slant.

Picking up two twigs, he lights them and watches them burn all the way down to his fingers.  

He always enjoyed the rush that came with flames, just like the rush that came when he disobeyed his father or thought he was smarter than him.  But this time, and like many times before, he was wrong and his father was right.  It was an animal and it needed to be trained.

As it got darker, he strolled back.  He knew he would need to see a nurse for his hand and that the beast would be punished, just then a thought flashed through his mind.  A thought that his father would probably kill the beast.  He starts running, he doesn't want it to be killed.  He wants to keep it, to train it.  He speeds through the forest, dodging trees and even a few hunters on their way back.  All of them shouting for him to stop but he ignores them.

Once back to the castle, he runs through the corridors towards the throne room, which is full of people from the middle quarter upwards.

"This animal will be publicly killed for injuring my son!" His father shouts, yanking the boy up by his shoulder

"No!" Mitch objects, cradling his hand, "I want to keep him.  I want to learn to train him!"

All heads turn to him some shocked, some smiling.  He pants, having run for at least two hours straight as his father eyeballs him.

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One year later

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"You can't escape me, Jerome!" Mitch shouts.

"Watch me, biggums!"  Jerome hollered back as he grabbed a vine off the castle wall.  He swung from it, through the window and to the outside of the castle.  At least three hundred feet up.

He climbs the vine with ease until it stops, halfway up the castle, and it flows in between two stone bricks.

Jerome smiles to himself and digs his claws into the stone, wincing at the pain that shoots through his fingers.  He takes his other hand and pulls the vine from it's home between the stones and watches as it grows taller and taller before wrapping over the top of the castle.  Releasing his claws, he stares up at his creation, chuckling.

"I'm coming, biggums, watch out!"

Staring down, he sees Mitch, his best friend, climbing after him.  He starts climbing again, quickly making it to the top of the castle jumping over and grinning at the guards up there.

"Um, hey."

"You're not allowed up here!" He nervously laughs, scratching the back of his neck.

"Yeah, about that, um, I was just, um..."

"Freefall, biggums!" Mitch screams as he reaches the top and pushes himself back, falling fast.  All the guards run over and shout for people, shout his name.  For no reason at all, but panic.

Jerome screams, running over and jumping over the edge, loving the feeling of powerful wind in his hair as he steers towards the castle wall, planting his feet firmly on it and running down the side of it.  He sees Mitch just reaching the bottom, a large gust of flames flying up and catching him.

That boy needs to be careful, who knows might see him, Jerome thinks as he makes the sharp turn from wall to floor and struggles to stop himself, running straight into a tree.

Fast on his back, on the grass, he lets out a loud laugh.

"That was amazing!" He shouts, "We could have died!"

"But we didn't!" Mitch says sitting next to Jerome.

"Mitchell!  Dinner!"

"Ugh," he groans, "Why do you have to eat separate to us?" He asks, to which he gets a simple answer.

"Because I'm just a pet biggums."

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